Look in his face, look in his eyes,

Look off, dear love, across the sallow sands,
Love knocked one night at a gentleman's heart,.

M

'Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord,

Mother, I see with your nursery light, .

My faith looks up to Thee,

Near the lake where droop'd the willow,
No bird-song floated down the hill,
Not bed-time yet! The night-winds blow,
Not yet will Cold, the tyrant, abdicate,
Now mind, Miss Grey, your name to-night,

PAGE.

236

36

270

52

196

22

100

O! a wonderful stream is the river Time,

59

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
Oh, carry me 'long; der's no more trouble for me,
Oh, darn it all!-afeared of her,

219

183

288

Off with your hat as the flag goes by,

198

Of manners and tricks, as erratic,

157

Old coat, for some three or four seasons,

267

Old Grimes is dead; that good old man,
Old Ironsides at anchor lay,

271

115

Old wine to drink,

50

Once he sang of summer,

One stormy morn I chanced to meet,
One summer day, to a young child I said,
One sweetly welcome thought,

On long, serene midsummer days,

229

258

25

94

163

PAGE.

Only a fallen horse, stretched out there on the road,
O! say, can you see by the dawn's early light,
O the days gone by! O the days gone by,
Out of the clover and blue-eyed grass,

O would God call a halt,-one moment's halt,

P

Pipe, little minstrels of the waning year,
Prithee tell me, Dimple-Chin,

214

"Room for the leper! Room!" And, as he came,
Round the meadows am a ringing,

109

181

S

See, from this counterfeit of him,
September strews the woodland o'er,

So fallen! so lost! the light withdrawn,
Solemn he paced upon that schooner's deck,
Sometimes at lonely dead of night,
Somewhat back from the village street,
Somewhere-in desolate wind-swept space,
So sweet, so sweet the roses in their blowing,
Sparkling and bright in liquid light,
Speak gently: it is better far,

66

'Speak! speak! thou fearful guest,"
Stand up-erect! Thou hast the form,
Sullen and dull, in the September day,
Sweetheart, name the day for me,
Symphorien! Symphorien,

135

140

70

266

149

31
8

143
289

53
116

175

128

294

107

T

Tell me not in mournful numbers,

75

Tell me what is sorrow? It is a garden bed,

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary,

15

The day is done, and the darkness,

14

The farmer sat in his easy chair,
The King and the Pope together,
The last of Winter's melancholy train,
The little toy dog is covered with dust,
The maid who binds her warrior's sash,
The melancholy days are come, .
The night is still, the moon looks kind,
The night was thick and hazy,

The shabby street-cars jingling go,

The snow had begun in the gloaming, .

The Summer comes and the Summer goes,

PAGE.

189

260

138

237

209

146

16

268

49

225

292

179

156

The sun shines bright in the old Kentucky home,
The thoughts are strange that crowd into my brain,
The violet loves a sunny bank,

The wind from out the west is blowing,

The wind is awake, pretty leaves, pretty leaves,
The years are flowers and bloom within,

297

156

294

They do neither plight nor wed,

There are gains for all our losses,

There are three ways in which men take,

There, little girl; don't cry,

There is no flock, however watched and tended,

There's a gilded vane on the tall church spire,

"There on the left!" said the colonel: the battle had

shuddered and faded away,

There will be news to-morrow,

'Tis but a little faded flower,

This ancient silver bowl of mine,-it tells of good old

ΙΟΙ

71

54

275

252

98

171

131

95

23

222

This dead man, soon to seek oblivious earth,
This I beheld, or dreamed it in a dream,
This is the ship of pearl, which poets feign,
Thought is deeper than all speech,

ΙΟ

102

174

9

To him who in the love of Nature, holds,

Too long, too long we keep the level plain,
Two low whistles, quaint and clear,

30

195

Two shall be born the whole wide world apart,
Tying her bonnet under her chin,

12

297

U

Under my keel another boat,
Up from the south, at break of day,
Upon a showery night and still, .

W

Way down upon de Swanee ribber,
We were not many-we who stood,
We were crowded in the cabin,
What does youth with silvered crown,
What is a sonnet? 'Tis the pearly shell,
When the baby died,

When the grass shall cover me,

When the little boy ran away from home,

PAGE.

149

212

158

178

200

124
69

2

84

When meeting-bells began to toll,

When Molly came home from the party to-night,

When she comes home again! A thousand ways,

When the Autumn winds nip all the hill-grasses brown,

When to soft Sleep we give ourselves away,

When, while he slumbers on my knee, soft gleams,
Whither, midst falling dew,

"Why Bob, you dear old fellow,"

Why is it the children don't love me,

With what sorrow, with what sadness,.
Woodman, spare that tree,

Y

Yes, cross in rest the little snow-white hands,
Yes, I was wrong about the phoebe-bird,

You've quizzed me often and puzzled me long,