INDEX OF FIRST LINES

A dull uncertain brain "A new commandment," said the smiling Muse A patch of meadow upland A queen rejoices in her peers A ruddy drop of manly blood A score of airy miles will smooth A sterner errand to the silken troop A subtle chain of countless rings A train of gay and clouded days Ah Fate, cannot a man Ah, not to me those dreams belong! All day the waves assailed the rock Alone in Rome. Why, Rome is lonely too Already blushes on thy cheek And as the light divides the dark And Ellen, when the graybeard years And I behold once more And when I am entombed in my place Announced by all the trumpets of the sky Around the man who seeks a noble end Ascending thorough just degrees Askest, 'How long thou shalt stay?' As sings the pine-tree in the wind As sunbeams stream through liberal space As the drop feeds its fated flower Atom from atom yawns as far Be of good cheer, brave spirit; steadfastly Because I was content with these poor fields Bethink, poor heart, what bitter kind of jest Blooms the laurel which belongs Boon Nature yields each day a brag which we now first behold Bring me wine, but wine which never grew Bulkeley, Hunt, Willard, Hosmer, Meriam, Flint Burly, dozing humble-bee But God said But if thou do thy best But Nature whistled with all her winds But never yet the man was found But over all his crowning grace By fate, not option, frugal Nature gave By the rude bridge that arched the flood By thoughts I lead Can rules or tutors educate Cast the bantling on the rocks Coin the day dawn into lines Dark flower of Cheshire garden Darlings of children and of bard Daughter of Heaven and Earth, coy Spring Daughters of Time, the hypocritic Days Day by day for her darlings to her much she added more Day by day returns Day! hast thou two faces Dear brother, would you know the life Dearest, where thy shadow falls Deep in the man sits fast his fate Each spot where tulips prank their state Each the herald is who wrote Easy to match what others do Ere he was born, the stars of fate Ever the Poet from the land Ever the Rock of Ages melts Every day brings a ship Every thought is public Fall, stream, from Heaven to bless; return as well Farewell, ye lofty spires Flow, flow the waves hated For art, for music over-thrilled For every God For Fancy's gift For Genius made his cabin wide For joy and beauty planted it For Nature, true and like in every place For thought, and not praise For what need I of book or priest Forbore the ant-hill, shunned to tread Freedom all winged expands Friends to me are frozen wine From fall to spring, the russet acorn From high to higher forces From the stores of eldest matter From thy worth and weight the stars gravitate Gifts of one who loved me Give all to love Give me truths Give to barrows, trays and pans Go if thou wilt, ambrosial flower Go speed the stars of Thought Go thou to thy learned task Gold and iron are good Good-bye, proud world! I'm going home Grace, Beauty and Caprice Gravely it broods apart on joy Hark what, now loud, now low, the pining flute complains Hast thou named all the birds without a gun? Have ye seen the caterpillar He could condense cerulean ether He lives not who can refuse me He planted where the deluge ploughed He took the color of his vest He who has a thousand friends has not a friend to spare He who has no hands Hear what British Merlin sung Henceforth, please God, forever I forego Her passions the shy violet Her planted eye to-day controls High was her heart, and yet was well inclined Him strong Genius urged to roam His instant thought a poet spoke His tongue was framed to music Hold of the Maker, not the Made How much, preventing God, how much I owe I, Alphonso, live and learn I am not poor but I am proud I am not wiser for my age I am the Muse who sung alway I bear in youth and sad infirmities I cannot spare water or wine I do not count the hours I spend I framed his tongue to music I grieve that better souls than mine I have an arrow that will find its mark I have no brothers and no peers I have trod this path a hundred times I heard or seemed to hear the chiding Sea I hung my verses in the wind I left my dreary page and sallied forth I like a church; I like a cowl I love thy music, mellow bell I mourn upon this battle-field I rake no coffined clay, nor publish wide I reached the middle of the mount I said to heaven that glowed above I see all human wits I serve you not, if you I follow If bright the sun, he tarries If curses be the wage of love If I could put my woods in song If my darling should depart If the red slayer think he slays Ill fits the abstemious Muse a crown to weave Illusions like the tints of pearl Illusion works impenetrable In an age of fops and toys In countless upward-striving waves In Farsistan the violet spreads In many forms we try In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes In my garden three ways meet In the chamber, on the stairs In the deep heart of man a poet dwells In the suburb, in the town In the turbulent beauty In Walden wood the chickadee It fell in the ancient periods It is time to be old Knows he who tills this lonely field Let me go where'er I will Let Webster's lofty face Like vaulters in a circus round Little thinks, in the field, yon red-cloaked clown Long I followed happy guides Love asks nought his brother cannot give Love on his errand bound to go Love scatters oil Low and mournful be the strain Man was made of social earth Many things the garden shows May be true what I had heard Mine and yours Mine are the night and morning Mortal mixed of middle clay Nature centres into balls Never did sculptor's dream unfold Night-dreams trace on Memory's wall No fate, save by the victim's fault, is low Not in their houses stand the stars October woods wherein O fair and stately maid, whose eyes O pity that I pause! O tenderly the haughty day O well for the fortunate soul O what are heroes, prophets, men Of all wit's uses the main one Of Merlin wise I learned a song Oh what is Heaven but the fellowship On a mound an Arab lay On bravely through the sunshine and the showers On prince or bride no diamond stone On two days it steads not to run from thy grave Once I wished I might rehearse One musician is sure Our eyeless bark sails free Over his head were the maple buds Pale genius roves alone Parks and ponds are good by day Philosophers are lined with eyes within Power that by obedience grows Put in, drive home the sightless wedges Quit the hut, frequent the palace Right upward on the road of fame Roomy Eternity Roving, roving, as it seems Ruby wine is drunk by knaves Samson stark at Dagon's knee See yonder leafless trees against the sky Seek not the spirit, if it hide Seems, though the soft sheen all enchants Set not thy foot on graves She is gamesome and good She paints with white and red the moors She walked in flowers around my field Shines the last age, the next with hope is seen Shun passion, fold the hands of thrift Six thankful weeks,—and let it be Slighted Minerva's learnèd tongue Soft and softlier hold me, friends! Solar insect on the wing Some of your hurts you have cured Space is ample, east and west Spin the ball! I reel, I burn Such another peerless queen Sudden gusts came full of meaning Tell me, maiden, dost thou use Tell men what they knew before Test of the poet is knowledge of love Thanks to the morning light That book is good That each should in his house abide That you are fair or wise is vain The April winds are magical The archangel Hope The Asmodean feat is mine The atom displaces all atoms beside The bard and mystic held me for their own The beggar begs by God's command The brave Empedocles, defying fools The brook sings on, but sings in vain The cold gray down upon the quinces lieth The cup of life is not so shallow The days pass over me The debt is paid The gale that wrecked you on the sand The green grass is bowing The heavy blue chain The living Heaven thy prayers respect The lords of life, the lords of life The low December vault in June be lifted high Theme no poet gladly sung The mountain and the squirrel The Muse's hill by Fear is guarded The patient Pan The prosperous and beautiful The rhyme of the poet The rocky nook with hilltops three The rules to men made evident The sea is the road of the bold The sense of the world is short The solid, solid universe The South-wind brings The Sphinx is drowsy The sun athwart the cloud thought it no sin The sun goes down, and with him takes The sun set, but set not his hope The tongue is prone to lose the way The water understands The wings of Time are black and white The word of the Lord by night The yesterday doth never smile Thee, dear friend, a brother soothes There are beggars in Iran and Araby There is in all the sons of men There is no great and no small There is no architect They brought me rubies from the mine They put their finger on their lips They say, through patience, chalk Thine eyes still shined for me, though far Think me not unkind and rude This is he, who, felled by foes This shining moment is an edifice Thou foolish Hafiz! Say, do churls Thou shalt make thy house Though her eyes seek other forms Though loath to grieve Though love repine and reason chafe Thousand minstrels woke within me Thy foes to hunt, thy enviers to strike down Thy summer voice, Musketaquit Thy trivial harp will never please To and fro the Genius flies To clothe the fiery thought To transmute crime to wisdom, so to stem Trees in groves True Brahmin, in the morning meadows wet Try the might the Muse affords Two things thou shalt not long for, if thou love a mind serene Two well-assorted travellers use Unbar the door, since thou the Opener art Venus, when her son was lost Was never form and never face We are what we are made; each following day We crossed Champlain to Keeseville with our friends We love the venerable house Well and wisely said the Greek What all the books of ages paint, I have What care I, so they stand the same What central flowing forces, say When all their blooms the meadows flaunt When I was born When success exalts thy lot When the pine tosses its cones When wrath and terror changed Jove's regal port Who gave thee, O Beauty Who knows this or that? 375. Who saw the hid beginnings Who shall tell what did befall Why did all manly gifts in Webster fail? Why fear to die Why lingerest thou, pale violet, to see the dying year Why should I keep holiday Wilt thou seal up the avenues of ill? Winters know Wise and polite,—and if I drew Wisp and meteor nightly falling With beams December planets dart With the key of the secret he marches faster Would you know what joy is hid Yes, sometimes to the sorrow-stricken You shall not be overbold You shall not love me for what daily spends Your picture smiles as first it smiled