IF I were the rose at your window,
Happiest rose of its crew,

We wagered, she for sunshine, I for rain, Every blossom I bore would bend in. And I should hint sharp practice if I ward,

dared ; They'd know where the sunshine grew. For was not she beforehand sure to gain

Who made the sunshine we together

shared ?


SIXTY-EIGHTH BIRTHDAY. Full oft the pathway to her door I've measured by the selfsame track, As life runs on the road grows strange Yet doubt the distance more and With faces new, and near the end more,

The milestones into headstones change, 'T is so much longer coming back! | 'Neath every one a friend


A beggar through the world am I, 4.

Fair as a summer dream was Margaret, 27.
A camel-driver, angry with his drudge, 498. Far over Elt-land poets stretch their sway, 469.
A heap of bare and splintery crags, 361.

Far through the memory shines a happy day,
A hundred years ! they 're quickly tied, 493. 407.
A legend that grew in the forest's hush, 74. Far up on Katahdin thou towerest, 63.
A lily thou wast when I saw thee first, 9.

Far 'yond this narrow parapet of Time, 23.
A poet cannot strive for despotism, 23.

Fit for an Abbot of Theleme, 380.
A presence both by night and day, 360.

“For this true nobleness I seek in vain," 20.
A race of nobles may die out, 101.

Frank-hearted hostess of the field and wood,
A stranger came one night to Yussouf's tent, 343.

From the close-shut windows gleams no spark,
About the oak that framed this chair, of old, 4.

Full oft the pathway to her door, 499.
Alike I hate to be your debtor, 385.
Along a river-side, I know not where, 392. Giddings, far rougher names than thine have
Amid these fragments of heroic days, 468.

grown, 25.
An ass munched thistles, while a nightingale, Go! leave me, Priest ; my soul would be, 76.

God! do not let my loved one die, 15.
" And how could you dream of meeting ?" 473. God makes sech nights, all white an' still, 233.
Another star 'neath Time's horizon dropped, God sends his teachers unto every age, 46.

Godminster? Is it Fancy's play? 355.
Are we, then, wholly fallen? Can it be, 98. Gold of the reddening sunset, backward thrown,
As a twig trembles, which a bird, 90.

As, cleansed of Tiber's and Oblivion's slime, Gone, gone from us ! and shall we see, 1.

Great soul, thou sittest with me in my room, 21.
As, flake by flake, the beetling avalanches, 92. Great truths are portions of the soul of man, 20..
As life runs on, the road grows strange, 499. Guvener B. is a sensible man, 180.
As sinks the sun behind yon alien hills, 468.
As the broad ocean endlessly upheaveth, 22. He came to Florence long ago, 354.
At Carnac in Brittany, close on the bay, 459. He spoke of Burns : men rude and rough, 44.
At length arrived, your book I take, 446. He stood upon the world's broad threshold;
At twenty we fancied the blest Middle Ages, 492. wide, 24.
Ay, pale and silent maiden, 18.

He who first stretched his nerves of subtile

wire, 475.
B, taught by Pope to do his good by stealth, Heaven's cup held down to me I drain, 89.

Here once my step was quickened, 367.
Beauty on my hearth-stone blazing! 377. "Here we stan' on the Constitution, by thun-
Beloved, in the noisy city here, 22.

der!" 189.
Beneath the trees, 395.

Hers all that Earth could promise or bestow,
Bowing thyself in dust before a Book, 99.


Hers is a spirit deep, and crystal clear, 3.
Can this be thou who, lean and pale, 87.

How strange are the freaks of memory! 387.
Come back before the birds are flown, 464. How struggles with the tempest's swells, 379.
" Come forth !" my catbird calls to me, 389. How was I worthy so divine a loss, 464.
Curtis, whose Wit, with Fancy arm in arm, 451. Hushed with broad sunlight lies the hill, 100.
Dear common flower, that grow'st beside the I am a man of forty, sirs, a native of East Had-
way, 83.

dam, 337.
Dear M. By way of saving time, 151. I ask not for those thoughts, that sudden leap,
Dear Sir,-You wish to know my notions, 195. 20.
Dear Sir, - Your letter come to han', 289. I call as fly the irrevocable hours, 498.
Dear Wendell, why need count the years, 445. I cannot think that thou shouldst pass away,
Death never came 80 nigh to me before, 87.

Don't believe in the Flying Dutchman? 488. I christened you in happier days, before, 447.
Down 'mid the tangled roots of things, 383. I could not bear to see those eyes, 466.

I did not praise thee when the crowd, 101.
Et I a song or two could make, 281.

I do not come to weep above thy pall, 104.
Entranced I saw a vision in the cloud, 43 I don't much s’pose, hows'ever I should plen it,
Ere pales in Heaven the morning star, 46


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I du believe in Freedom's cause, 192.

| No? Hez he? He haint, though? Wut?
I go to the ridge in the forest, 300.

Voted agin him ? 184.
I grieve not that ripe knowledge takes away, Nor deem he lived unto himself alone, 448.

Not always unimpeded can I pray, 352.
I had a little daughter, 90.

Not as all other women are, 5.
I have a fancy : how shall I bring it, 476. Now Biörn, the son of Heriulf, had ill days, 368.
I hed it on my min' las' time, when I to write
ye started, 256.

O days endeared to every Muse, 488.
I know a falcon, swift and peerless, 48.

“O Dryad feet," 472.
I love to start out arter night 's begun, 246. O dwellers in the valley-land, 79.
I need not praise the sweetness of his song, O Land of Promise! from what Pisgah's height,

I rise, Mr. Chairman, as both of us know, 496. O moonlight deep and tender, 19.
I sat and watched the wails of night, 474.

0, wandering dim on the extremest edge,
I sat one evening in my room, 81.

Of all the myriad moods of mind, 92.
I saw a Sower walking slow, 61.

Oft round my hall of portraiture I gaze, 468.
I saw the twinkle of white feet, 66.

Oh, tell me less or tell me more, 466.
I sent you a message, my friens, t' other day, Old events have modern meanings; only that

survives, 372.
I spose you recollect thet I explained my gennle Old Friend, farewell! Your kindly door again,
views, 203.

I spose you wonder ware I be; I can't tell, fer Once git a smell o' musk into a draw, 274.
the soul o' me, 198.

Once hardly in a cycle blossometh, 22.
I swam with undulation soft, 383.

Once on a time there was a pool, 262.
I thank ye, my frien's, for the warmth o' your One after one the stars have risen and set, 38.
greetin', 269.

One feast, of holy days the crest, 377.
I thought our love at full, but I did err, 25. One kiss from all others prevents me, 467.
I treasure in secret some long, fine hair, 365. Opening one day a book of mine, 474.
I, walking the familiar street, 461.

Our love is not a fading, earthly flower, 24.
I was with thee in Heaven: I cannot tell, 468. Our ship lay tumbling in an angry sea, 397.
I watched a moorland torrent run, 475.

Over his keys the musing organist, 107.
I went to seek for Christ, 66.
I would more natures were like thine, 10. Phoebus, sitting one day in a laurel-tree's shade,
I would not have this perfect love of ours, 20. 119.
If I let fall a word of bitter mirth, 120.

Praisest Law, friend? We, too, love it much
If I were the rose at your window, 499.

as they that love it best, 94.
In a small chamber, friendless and unseen, 103. Propped on the marsh, a dwelling now I see,
In his tower sat the poet, 16.

. In life's small things be resolute and great, 498. Punctorum garretos colens et cellara Quinque,
In the old days of awe and keen-eyed wonder, 284.

In town I hear, scarce wakened yet, 466. Rabbi Jehosha used to say, 377.
Into the sunshine, 10.

Reader! Walk up at once (it will soon be too
It is a mere wild rosebud, 4.

late), 113.
It don't seem hardly right, John, 252.

Rippling through thy branches goes the sun-
It mounts athwart the windy hill, 390.

shine, 80.
It was past the hour of trysting, 79.
It's some consid'ble of a spell sence I hain't Said Christ our Lord, “I will go and see," 96.
writ no letters, 237.

Seat of all woes? Though Nature's firin de-

cree, 470.
Leaves fit to have been poor Juliet's cradle- She gave me all that woman can, 465.
rhyme, 451.

Shell, whose lips, than mine more cold, 475.
Light of triumph in her eyes, 472.

Ship, blest to bear such freight across the blue,
Look on who will in apathy, and stifle they who 450.
can, 82.

Shy soul and stalwart, man of patient will, 448.

Silencioso por la puerta, 467.
Maiden, when such a soul as thine is born, 2 Sisters two, all praise to you, 61.
Mary, since first I knew thee, to this hour, 23. Skilled to pull wires, he battles Nature's hope,
Men say the sullen instrument, 389.

Men! whose boast it is that ye, 56.

Sleep is Death's image, - poets tell us 80, 464.
My coachman, in the moonlight there, 355. So dreamy-soft the notes, so far away, 470.
My day began not till the twilight fell, 456. Some sort of heart I know is hers, 86.
My heart, I cannot still it, 474.

Sometimes come pauses of calm, when the rapt
My Love, I have no fear that thou shouldst die, bard, holding his heart back, 462.

Somewhere in India, upon a time, 332.
My name is Water: I have sped, 96.

Spirit, that rarely comest now, 381.
My soul was like the sea, 9.

Still thirteen years : 't is autumn now, 366.
My worthy friend, A. Gordon Knott, 323. Swiftly the politic goes : is it dark? - he bor

rows a lantern, 498.
Never, surely, was holier man, 78.
New England's poet, rich in love as years, 450. Thank God, he saw you last in pomp of May,
Nine years have slipt like hour-glass sand, 358. 447.

Thanks to the artist, ever on my wat

Racon. 'T were po hard task, percuar dhe

air. 168.

| 'T was sung of old in hut and hall, 403.
That's a rather bold speech, my Lord Bacon, 'T were no hard task, perchance, to win, 394.

Two brothers once, an ill-matched pair, 168.
The Bardling came where by a river grew, 373. Two fellers, Isrel named avd Joe, 168.
The century numbers fourscore years, 475.
The cordage creaks and rattles in the wind, 56. Unconscious as the sunshine, simply sweet, 448.
The dandelions and buttercups, 353.

Untremulous in the river clear, 6.
The electric nerve, whose iustantaneous thrill,

Violet ! sweet violet ! 17.
The fire is burning clear and blithely, 376.
The hope of Truth grows stronger, day by day, Wait a little : do we not wait ? 382.

Walking alone where we walked together, 467.
The little gate was reached at last, 366.

We see but half the causes of our deeds, 49.
The love of all things springs from love of one, We, too, have autumns, when our leaves, 98.

We wagered, she for sunshine, I for rain, 499.
The Maple puts her corals on in May, 469. Weak-winged is song, 398.
The misspelt scrawl, upon the wall, 495.

What boot your houses and your lands ? 62.
The inoon shines white and silent, 15.

What countless years and wealth of brain were
The New World's sons, from England's breasts spent, 471.
we drew, 498.

“What fairings will ye that I bring ? " 351.
The next whose fortune 't was a tale to tell, What gnarled stretch, what depth of shade, is

his! 77.
The night is dark, the stinging sleet, 14.

What man would live coffined with brick and
The old Chief, feeling now wellnigh his end, 54. stone, 91.
The path from me to you that led, 463.

What mean these banners spread, 472.
The pipe came safe, and welcome too, 446. " What means this glory round our feet," 467.
The rich man's son inherits lands, 15.

What Nature makes in any mood, 359.
The same good blood that now refills, 97.

What visionary tints the year puts on, 09.
The sea is lonely, the sea is dreary, 2.

What were I, Love, if I were stripped of thee,
The snow had begun in the gloaming, 350.

The tower of old Saint Nicholas soared upward | What were the whole void world, if thou wert
to the skies, co.

dead, 471.
The wind is roistering out of doors, 343.

When a deed is done for Freedom, through the
The wisest man could ask no more of Fate, 448. broad earth's aching breast, 67.
The world turns mild; democracy, they say, 491. When I was a beggarly boy, 358.
There are who triumph in a losing cause, 102. When oaken woods with buds are pink, 462.
There came a youth upon the earth, 44.

When Persia's sceptre trembled in a hand, 349.
There lay upon the ocean's shore, 352.

When the down is on the chin, 473.
There never yet was flower fair in vain, 21. When wise Minerva still was young, 487.
Therefore think not the Past is wise alone, 23. Where is the true man's fatherland? 13.
These pearls of thought in Persian gulfs were “Where lies the capital, pilgriin, seat of who
bred, 446.

governs the Faithful?" 498.
These rugged, wintry days I scarce could bear, whether my heart hath wiser grown or not, 25.

Whether the idle prisoner through his grate,
They pass me by like shadows, crowds on 48.
crowds, 24.

While the slow clock, as they were miser's gold,
Thick-rushing, like an ocean vast, 9.

This is the midnight of the century, - hark! | Whither? Albeit I follow fast, 404.

Who cometh over the hills, 421.
This kind of sogerin' aint a mite like our Octo Who does his duty is a question, 451.
ber trainin', 176.

Who hath not been a poet? Who hath not,
This little blossom from afar, 5.

Thou look'dst on me all yesternight, 17.

Why should I seek her spell to decompose, 449.
Though old the thought and oft exprest, 353. With what odorous woods and spices, 465.
Thrash away, you 'll hev to rattle, 173.

Woe worth the hour when it is crime, 104.
Through suffering and sorrow thou hast passed, Wondrous and awful are thy silent halls, 64.

Words pass as wind, but where great deeds
Thy love thou sendest oft to me, 76.

were done, 424.
Thy voice is like a fountain, 8.

Worn and footsore was the Prophet, 18.
'Tis a woodland enchanted! 373.
To those who died for her on land and sea, 498. | Ye little think what toil it was to build, 470.
True as the sun's own work, but more refined, Ye who, passing graves by night, 84.

Yes, faith is a goodly anchor, 367.
True Love is a humble, low-born thing, 7.
Turbid from London's noise and smoke, 465. Zekle crep' up, quite unbeknown, 160.

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