Garlands upon his grave, 419.

Gentle Spring! in sunshine clad, 817.
Gently swaying to and fro, 389.

Give me of your bark, O Birch-tree, 157.

Gloomy and dark art thou, O chief of the mighty
Omahas, 79.

Glove of black in white hand bare, 788.
God sent his messenger the rain, 607.
God sent his Singers upon earth, 138.
Good night! good night, beloved, 52.
Guarding the mountains around, 392.

Hadst thou stayed, I must have fled, 326.
Half of my life is gone, and I have let, 84.
Hark, hark, 816.

Haste and hide thee, 390.

Hast thou seen that lordly castle, 806.
Have I dreamed? or was it real, 229.
Have you read in the Talmud of old, 246.
He is dead, the beautiful youth, 373.
He is gone to the desert land! 840.
Here in a little rustic hermitage, 417.

Here lies the gentle humorist, who died, 412.
High on their turreted cliffs, 391.
Honor be to Mudjekeewis! 144.
How beautiful is the rain, 73.

How beautiful it was, that one bright day, 370.
How cold are thy baths, Apollo! 448.

How I started up in the night, in the night, 813.
How many lives, made beautiful and sweet, 374.
How much of my young heart, O Spain, 436.
How strange it seems! These Hebrews in their
graves, 235.

How strange the sculptures that adorn these
towers, 375.

How the Titan, the defiant, 386.

How they so softly rest, 804.

I am poor and old and blind, 425.

I am the God Thor, 271.

I enter, and I see thee in the gloom, 375.

If perhaps these rhymes of mine should sound
not well in strangers' ears, 813.

If thou art sleeping, maiden, 64, 840.

I have a vague remembrance, 380.

I have read, in some old, marvellous tale, 7.

I hear along our street, 826.

I heard a brooklet gushing, 805.

I heard a voice, that cried, 137.

I heard the bells on Christmas Day, 371.

I heard the trailing garments of the Night, 3.

I know a maiden fair to see, 806.

I lay upon the headland-height, and listened, 369.
I leave you, ye cold mountain chains, 830.
I lift mine eyes, and all the windows blaze, 376.
I like that ancient Saxon phrase, which calls, 20.
In Attica thy birthplace should have been, 406.
In broad daylight, and at noon, 235.

In dark fens of the Dismal Swamp, 26.

In his chamber, weak and dying, 73.

In his lodge beside a river, 195.

In Mather's Magnalia Christi, 230.

In Ocean's wide domains, 27.

In St. Luke's Gospel we are told, 451.

Intelligence and courtesy not always are com-
bined, 812.

In that building long and low, 239.

In that desolate land and lone, 438.

In the ancient town of Bruges, 67.
In the convent of Drontheim, 292.

In the heroic days when Ferdinand, 295.

In the long, sleepless watches of the night, 418.

In the market-place of Bruges stands the belfry
old and brown, 68.

In the old churchyard of his native town, 153.
In the Old Colony days, in Plymouth the land of
the Pilgrims, 201.

In the valley of the Pegnitz, where across broad
meadow-lands, 71.

In the Valley of the Vire, 236.

In the village churchyard she lies, 232.
In the workshop of Hephaestus, 383.
In those days said Hiawatha, 177.
In those days the Evil Spirits, 179.
Into the city of Kambalu, 311.

Into the darkness and the hush of night, 453.
Into the open air John Alden, perplexed and be-
wildered, 209.

Into the Silent Land, 808.

I pace the sounding sea-beach and behold, 408.

I said unto myself, if I were dead, 410.

I saw, as in a dream sublime, 77.

I saw the long line of the vacant shore, 410.

I see amid the fields of Ayr, 448.

I shot an arrow into the air, 84.

Is it so far from thee, 446.

I sleep, but my heart awaketh, 476.

I stand again on the familiar shore, 407.

I stand beneath the tree, whose branches shade,
416.

I stood on the bridge at midnight, 78.

I stood upon the hills, when heaven's wide arch,
12.

Italy Italy! thou who 'rt doomed to wear.
836.

I thought this Pen would arise, 448.

It is autumn; not without, 458.

It is the Harvest Moon! On gilded vanes, 414.

I trust that somewhere and somehow, 313.

It was Einar Tamberskelver, 291.

It was fifty years ago, 245.

It was Sir Christopher Gardiner, 363.

It was the schooner Hesperus, 17.

It was the season, when through all the land,
300.

Love, love, what wilt thou with this heart of
mine? 833.

Lull me to sleep, ye winds, whose fitful sound,
411.

Lutheran, Popish, Calvinistic, all these creeds and
doctrines three, 812.

Maiden! with the meek, brown eyes, 23.
Man-like is it to fall into sin, 812.

Meanwhile the stalwart Miles Standish was
marching steadily northward, 219.

Month after month passed away, and in Autumn
the ships of the merchants, 222.
Mounted on Kyrat strong and fleet, 440.
Much it behoveth, 816.

My beloved is white and ruddy, 476.

My soul its secret has, my life too has its mystery,
833.

My undefiled is but one, 477.

Neglected record of a mind neglected, 470.
Never shall souls like these, 396.
Never stoops the soaring vulture, 190.

Nine sisters, beautiful in form and face, 412.
No more shall I see, 790.

Northward over Drontheim, 287.

No sound of wheels or hoof-beat breaks, 420.

Not fashioned out of gold, like Hera's throne,
382.

Nothing that is shall perish utterly, 708.
Nothing the greatest artist can conceive, 836.
Nothing was heard in the room but the hurrying
pen of the stripling, 203.

Not without fire can any workman mould, 837.
Now from all King Olaf's farms, 275.
Nowhere such a devious stream, 426.

Now the zephyrs diminish the cold, and the year
being ended, 849.

Now Time throws off his cloak again, 817.

O Cæsar, we who are about to die, 400.

O curfew of the setting sun! O bells of Lynn !
372.

O'er all the hill-tops, 813.

O faithful, indefatigable tides, 470.

Of Edenhall, the youthful Lord, 809.

Of Prometheus, how undaunted, 228.

Often I think of the beautiful town, 237.

Oft have I seen at some cathedral door, 374.

Oft I remember those whom I have known,
464.

O gift of God! O perfect day, 249.

O gladsome light, 548.

O hemlock tree! O hemlock tree! how faithful
are thy branches, 810.

Oh, give me back the days when loose and free,
837.

Oh, how blest are ye whose toils are ended, 813.
Oh let the soul her slumbers break, 775.

Oh that a Song would sing itself to me, 417.
Oh, the long and dreary Winter, 193.

Olaf the King, one summer morn, 278.

Olger the Dane and Desiderio, 337.

O little feet! that such long years, 250.

O Lord! who seest, from yon starry height,
783.

O lovely river of Yvette, 439.

Once into a quiet village, 136.
Once more, once more, Inarimé, 437.
Once on a time, some centuries ago, 350.
Once the Emperor Charles of Spain, 233.
Once upon Iceland's solitary strand, 418.
One Autumn night, in Sudbury town, 251.
One day, Haroun Al Raschid read, 442.

One hundred years ago, and something more,

322.

One morning, all alone, 544.

One summer morning, when the sun was hot,
259.

On King Olaf's bridal night, 280.

On St. Bavon's tower, commanding, 439.
On sunny slope and beechen swell, 13.
On the cross the dying Saviour, 812.
On the gray sea-sands, 290.

On the green little isle of Inchkenneth, 442.
On the Mountains of the Prairie, 142.
On the shores of Gitche Gumee, 162.
On the top of a mountain I stand, 60.

O precious evenings! all too swiftly sped, 138.
O River of Yesterday, with current swift, 415.
O star of morning and of liberty, 376.
O sweet illusions of Song, 378.

O sweet, pale face! O lovely eyes of azure, 383.
Othere, the old sea-captain, 243.

O traveller, stay thy weary feet, 469.
Our God, a Tower of Strength is He, 608.
Out of childhood into manhood, 149.
Out of the bosom of the Air, 249.

O weathercock on the village spire, 451.
O ye dead Poets, who are living still, 413.

Padre Francisco, 36.

Pentecost, day of rejoicing, had come. The
church of the village, 791.

Peradventure of old, some bard in Ionian Islands,
463.

Pleasant it was, when woods were green, 1.

Poet! I come to touch thy lance with mine, 418.

Quand les astres de Noël, 376.

Queen Sigrid the Haughty sat proud and aloft,
274.

Rabbi Ben Levi, on the Sabbath, read, 265.
Rio Verde, Rio Verde, 784.

Rise up, my love, my fair one, 476.
River that in silence windest, 21.

River, that stealest with such silent pace, 407.
Robert of Sicily, brother of Pope Urbane, 267.

Sadly as some old medieval knight, 466.
Safe at anchor in Drontheim bay, 286.
Saint Augustine! well hast thou said, 230.

St. Botolph's Town! Hither across the plains,
415.

San Miguel de la Tumba is a convent vast and
wide, 786.

See, the fire is sinking low, 372.

She dwells by Great Kenhawa's side, 26.
She is a maid of artless grace, 787.

Shepherd! who with thine amorous, sylvan song,
782.

Short of stature, large of limb, 280.

Should any one there in Rome remember Ovid
the exile, 847.

Should you ask me, whence these stories, 140.

Simon Danz has come home again, 435.

Sing, O Song of Hiawatha, 175.

Sir Oluf he rideth over the plain, 802.

Sleep, comrades, sleep and rest, 468.

Slowly, slowly up the wall, 576.

Slowly the hour-hand of the clock moves round,

414.

So from the bosom of darkness our days come
roaring and gleaming, 470.

Soft through the silent air descend the feathery
snow-flakes, 470.

Solemnly, mournfully, 85.

Some day, some day, 787.

Something the heart must have to cherish, 814.
Somewhat back from the village street, 82.
So the strong will prevailed, and Alden went on
his errand, 205.

Southward with fleet of ice, 131.

Spake full well, in language quaint and olden, 5.
Speak! speak! thou fearful guest, 15.

Spring is coming, birds are twittering, forests
leaf, and smiles the sun, 789.

Stars of the summer night, 32.

Stay, stay at home, my heart, and rest, 443.
Still through Egypt's desert places, 465.
Strike the sails! King Olaf said, 290.

Svend Dyring he rideth adown the glade, 360.
Sweet as the tender fragrance that survives,
444.

Sweet babe! true portrait of thy father's face,
818.

Sweet chimes! that in the loneliness of night,
462.

Sweet faces, that from pictured casements lean,

417.

Sweet the memory is to me, 423.

Taddeo Gaddi built me. I am old, 411.

Take them, O Death! and bear away, 139.
Tell me not, in mournful numbers, 3.

The Ages come and go, 687.

The Archbishop, whom God loved in high degree,
818.

The battle is fought and won, 357.

The brooklet came from the mountain, 381.
The ceaseless rain is falling fast, 420.

The course of my long life hath reached at last,
838.

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary, 20.
The day is done, and the darkness, 79.
The day is ending, 80.

The doors are all wide open; at the gate, 407.
The guests were loud, the ale was strong, 276.
The holiest of all holidays are those, 417.

The lights are out, and gone are all the guests,
397.

The night is come, but not too soon, 4.

The nuns in the cloister, 52.

The old house by the lindens, 135.

The pages of thy book I read, 25.

The panting City cried to the Sea, 464.

The peasant leaves his plough afield, 785.

There is a quiet spirit in these woods, 12.

There is a Reaper, whose name is Death, 4.

There is no flock, however watched and tended.
133.

There sat one day in quiet, 804.

The rising moon has hid the stars, 19.

The rocky ledge runs far into the sea, 131.
There was a time when I was very small, 803.
The rivers rush into the sea, 804.

The sea awoke at midnight from its sleep, 409.
The sea hath its pearls, 812.
These are the Voices Three, 392.

These words the poet heard in Paradise, 466.

The shades of night were falling fast, 23.

The Slaver in the broad lagoon, 28.

The summer sun is sinking low, 461.
The sun is bright, the air is clear, 20.

The sun is set; and in his latest beams, 409.

The tide rises, the tide falls, 452.
The twilight is sad and cloudy, 131.

The wind is rising; it seizes and shakes, 533.
The world is full of care, 637.

The young Endymion sleeps Endymion's sleep,
409.

This is the Arsenal.

From floor to ceiling, 70.
This is the forest primeval. The murmuring
pines and the hemlocks, 86.

This is the place. Stand still, my steed, 69.
This song of mine, 242.

Thora of Rimol! hide me! hide me, 273.
Thorberg Skafting, master-builder, 284.
Thou ancient oak! whose myriad leaves are loud,
412.

Thou brooklet, all unknown to song, 829.

Thou comest, Autumn, heralded by the rain, 84.
Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they
grind exceeding small, 812.

Thou mighty Prince of Church and State, 827.
Thou Royal River, born of sun and shower, 414.
Thou that from the heavens art, 813.

Three Kings came riding from far away, 442.
Three miles extended around the fields of the
homestead, on three sides, 788.

Three Silences there are: the first of speech,
414.

Thus for a while he stood, and mused by the
shore of the ocean, 217.

Thus sang the Potter at his task, 427.
Thus, then, much care-worn, 815.

'Tis late at night, and in the realm of sleep,
374.

Tityrus, thou in the shade of a spreading beech-
tree reclining, 844.

To gallop off to town post-haste, 832.

To noble heart Love doth for shelter fly, 840.
Torrent of light and river of the air, 409.

Turn, turn, my wheel!

427.

Tuscan, that wanderest
gloom, 85.

Turn round and round,

through the realms of

'T was Pentecost, the Feast of Gladness, 807.
Two angels, one of Life and one of Death, 234.
Two good friends had Hiawatha, 156.

Under a spreading chestnut-tree, 18.
Under Mount Etna he lies, 248.
Under the walls of Monterey, 237.

Until we meet again! That is the meaning, 462.
Up soared the lark into the air, 424.

Viswamitra the Magician, 442.
Vogelweid the Minnesinger, 81.

Warm and still is the summer night, 434.
Welcome, my old friend, 80.

Welcome, O Stork! that dost wing, 843.

We sat within the farm-house old, 132.
What an image of peace and rest, 450.
What is this I read in history, 459.
What phantom is this that appears, 450.
What say the Bells of San Blas, 469.

What should be said of him cannot be said, 839.
What the Immortals, 388.

When Alcuin taught the sons of Charlemagne,
339.

When by night the frogs are croaking, kindle but
a torch's fire, 813.

When descends on the Atlantic, 129.

Whene'er a noble deed is wrought, 242.

When I compare, 468.

When winter winds are piercing chill, 10.
Where are the Poets, unto whom belong, 468.
Whereunto is money good, 812.

Whilom Love was like a fire, and warmth and
comfort it bespoke, 812.

White swan of cities, slumbering in thy nest, 413.
Whither, thou turbid wave, 804.

Who love would seek, 813.

Why dost thou wildly rush and roar, 466.
Will ever the dear days come back again, 831.

Will then, Duperrier, thy sorrow be eternal ?
827.

With favoring winds, o'er sunlit seas, 445.

With snow-white veil and garments as of flame,

376.

With what a glory comes and goes the year, 10.
Witlaf, a king of the Saxons, 135.

Worn with speed is my good steed, 65.

Ye sentinels of sleep, 393.

Yes, the moment shall decide, 393.
Yes, the Year is growing old, 8.

Yet not in vain, O River of Yesterday, 415.
Ye voices, that arose, 14.

You shall hear how Hiawatha, 153.

You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewis, 168, 182.

Bells of Lynn, The, 372.

Bells of San Blas, The, 469.

Beowulf's Expedition to Heort, 815.
Beware, 806.

Bird and the Ship, The, 804.
Birds of Killingworth, The, 300.

BIRDS OF PASSAGE, 227, 378, 419, 434.
Birds of Passage, 227.

Black Knight, The, 807.

Blessed are the Dead, 813.

Blind Bartimeus, 22.

BLIND GIRL OF CASTEL-CUILLÈ, THE, 819.

BOOK OF SONNETS, A, 406.

Danish Song-Book, To an Old, 80.

Dante: "Tuscan, that wanderest through the
realms of gloom," 85.

Dante: "What should be said of him cannot be
said," 839.

Daybreak, 244.
Day is Done, The, 79.

Daylight and Moonlight, 235.

Day of Sunshine, A, 249.

Dead, The, 804.

Death of Archbishop Turpin, 818.

Decoration Day, 468.

Dedication (Michael Angelo), 708.

Dedication (The Seaside and the Fireside), 123.
Delia, 444.

Descent of the Muses, The, 412.

Discoverer of the North Cape, The, 243.

Divina Commedia, 374.

DIVINE TRAGEDY, THE, 473.

Drinking Song, 82.

Driving Cloud, To the, 79.
Dutch Picture, A, 435.