INDEX OF FIRST LINES
Then, shuddering an instant, with the fear, 395.
There were seven angels erst that spanned, 447.
This was a magician's cell, 205.
Thou art mine, thou hast given thy word, 376.
Thou shalt have sun and shower from heaven above, 429.
Thou,—whose endearing hand once laid in sooth, 454.
Though Arkádi's shattered pile, 250.
'T is fifteen hundred years, you say, 419.
Trailing hemlock, serried spruce, 220.
'T was the season of feasts, when the blithe birds had met, 416.
Twelve hundred miles and more, 409.
Two thousand feet in air it stands, 311.
Two towers the old Cathedral lifts, 353.
Vainly, O burning Poets! 363.
Voice of the western wind! 362.
Waking, I have been nigh to Death, 461.
Warder at ocean's gate, 209.
Wave, wave your glorious battle-flags, brave soldiers of the North, 60.
We stood around the dreamless form, 193.
Weary at length of the ancestral gloom, 192.
Well, Helen, quite two years have flown, 406.
Wert thou on earth to-day, immortal one, 201.
What ho! dumb jester, cease to grin and mask it! 430.
What seest thou, when the peaks above thee stand, 192.
What! shall that sudden blade, 172.
What's this! your tall ship sighted at the line? 220.
What would you do, my dear one said, 463.
When buttercups are blossoming, 77.
When Christmas-Eve is ended, 386.
When Sibyl kept her tryst with me, the harvest moon was rounded, 444.
When the rude world's relentless war has pressed, 306.
Where nowadays the Battery lies, 69.
Where's he that died o' Wednesday? 382.
Which is the Wind that brings the cold? 372.
Whither away, Robin, 376.
Whittier! the Land that loves thee, she whose child, 190.
Who knew him, loved him. His the longing heart, 206.
Why should I constant be? 379.
With proud, uplifted head, 217.
Within our summer hermitage, 372.
Within the garden of Beaucaire, 383.
Yes, Doctor, surely we recall, 214.
Zounds! how the price went flashing through, 93.
