INDEX OF FIRST LINES
A cloister tale,—a strange and ancient thing, 422.
A dread voice from the mountain cried to me, 212.
A haunt the mountain roadside near, 333.
A hundred years, 't is writ,—O presage vain! 198.
A wind and a voice from the North! 152.
Abbot and monks of Westminster, 436.
Afterward, soon as the chaste Persephone hither and thither, 230.
All night we hear the rattling flaw, 461.
All things on Earth that are accounted great, 146.
Around his loins, when the last breath had gone, 455.
Back from the trebly crimsoned field, 12.
Bayard, awaken not this music strong, 211.
Between the outer Keys, 328.
Bring no more flowers and books and precious things! 400.
But come now, down with the harvest! 225.
Came the morning of that day, 9.
Clothed in sable, crowned with gold, 411.
Come, let us burst the cerements and the shroud, 309.
Could we but know, 465.
Do you know the blue of the Carib Sea, 325.
Do you remember our charming times, 366.
Earth, let thy softest mantle rest, 164.
England! since Shakespeare died no loftier day, 454.
Exquisite tufts of perfume and of light, 211.
Fall'n like an eagle from his scaur, 216.
"Forgive them, for they know not what they do!" 60.
From the commandant's quarters on Westchester height, 389.
Give me to die unwitting of the day, 465.
Gone at last, 162.
Good-bye, Walt! 198.
"Grant him," I said, "a well-earned name," 452.
Great Ares, whose tempestuous godhood found, 243.
Had I, my love declared, the tireless wing, 306.
Hark! through the archways old, 145.
473
