INDEX OF FIRST LINES.

PAGE

A blind man is a poor man, 589

A cold, uninterrupted rain, 392

A fleet with flags arrayed, 492

A handful of red sand, from the hot clime, 151

A little bird in the air, 374

A millstone and the human heart, 589

A mist was driving down the British Channel, 462

A strain of music closed the tale, 380

A wind came up out of the sea, 475

A youth, light-hearted and content, 598

After a day of cloud and wind and rain, 447

Again the tossing boughs shut out the scene, 446

Ah Love, 87

Ah! what pleasant visions haunt me, 148

All are architects of Fate, 150

All day has the battle raged, 378

All houses wherein men have lived and died, 463

All praised the Legend more or less, 412

All the old gods are dead, 369

Am I a king, that I should call my own, 500

An angel with a radiant face, 559

An old man in a lodge within a park, 441

And King Olaf heard the cry, 359

And now, behold! as at the approach of morning, 538

And now I sit and muse on what may be, 445

And then the blue-eyed Norseman told, 358

And thou, O River of To-morrow, flowing, 440

Annie of Tharaw, my true love of old, 586

As a fond mother when the day is o’er, 438

As one who walking in a forest sees, 445

As one who, walking in the twilight gloom, 139

As the birds come in the spring, 504

As the dim twilight shrouds, 525

As unto the bow the cord is, 279

At anchor in Hampton Roads we lay, 482

At Atri in Abruzzo, a small town, 394

At Drontheim, Olaf the king, 371

At Stralsund, by the Baltic Sea, 403

At the foot of the mountain height, 561

Baron Castine of St. Castine, 412

Beautiful lily, dwelling by still rivers, 425

Beautiful valley through whose verdant meads, 485

Behold! a giant am I!, 509

Bell! thou soundest merrily, 594

Bent like a labouring oar, that toils in the surf of the ocean, 112

Beside the ungathered rice he lay, 20

Between the dark and the daylight, 481

Beware! the Israelite of old, who tore, 23

Black are the moors before Kazan, 605

Black shadows fall, 460

Blind Bartimeus at the gates, 28

Build me straight, O worthy master, 140

Burn, O evening hearth, and waken, 429

But yesterday these few and hoary sheaves, 537

By his evening fire the artist, 156

By the shore of Gitche Gumee, 311

By yon still river, where the wave, 525

Can it be the sun descending, 285

Christ to the young man said, “Yet one thing more”, 155

Clear fount of light, my native land on high, 536

Come! old friend! sit down and listen, 52

Come to me, O ye children, 478

Dark is the morning with mist, 508

Dead he lay among his books, 506

Dear child! how radiant on thy mother’s knee, 39

Dost thou see on the rampart’s height, 494

Down from yon distant mountain height, 605

Downward through the evening twilight, 261

Even as a bird, ’mid the belovèd leaves, 541

Even as the Blessèd, at the final summons, 540

Far and wide among the nations, 303

Far in the West there lies a desert land, where the mountains, 131

Filled is Life’s goblet to the brim, 28

For thee was a house built, 571

Forms of saints and kings are standing, 585

Forth from the curtain of clouds, from the tent of purple and scarlet, 335

Forth upon the Gitche Gumee, 273

Four limpid lakes—four Naiades, 502

Four times the sun had risen and set; and now on the fifth day, 118

From this high portal, where upsprings, 570

Full of wrath was Hiawatha, 299

Garlands upon his grave, 485

Gentle Spring!—in sunshine clad, 553

Give me of your bark, O Birch-Tree, 272

Gloomy and dark art thou, O chief of the mighty Omahas, 47

God sent his messenger the rain, 249

God sent his Singers upon earth, 154

Good night, good night, beloved, 85

Hadst thou stayed, I must have fled, 410

Hast thou seen that lordly castle?, 595

Hasten, hasten, O ye spirits, 157

Have I dreamed? or was it real, 479

Have you read in the Talmud of old, 479

He ended: and a kind of spell, 353

He is dead, the beautiful youth, 430

He is gone to the desert land, 603

Hence away, begone, begone, 554

Here in a little rustic hermitage, 441

Here lies the gentle humourist, who died, 438

Here rest the weary oar!—soft airs, 524

Honour be to Mudjekeewis!, 258

How beautiful is the rain!, 44

How beautiful it was that one bright day, 427

How cold are thy baths, Apollo!, 508

How I started up in the night, in the night, 599

How many lives, made beautiful and sweet, 434

How much of my young heart, O Spain, 493

How strange it seems! these Hebrews in their graves, 467

How strange the sculptures that adorn these towers, 436

How they so softly rest, 594

I am the God Thor, 359

I enter, and I see thee in the gloom, 436

I have read, in some old marvellous tale, 13

I hear along our street, 560

I heard a brooklet gushing, 593

I heard a voice that cried, 153

I heard the bells on Christmas Day, 432

I heard the trailing garments of the night, 8

I know a maiden fair to see, 594

I lay upon the headland height, and listened, 426

I leave you, ye cold mountain chains, 570

I lift mine eyes, and all the windows blaze, 437

I like that ancient Saxon phrase, which calls, 27

I sat by my window one night, 527

I saw, as in a dream sublime, 43

I see amidst the fields of Ayr, 505

I shot an arrow into the air, 50

I stand again on the familiar shore, 444

I stand beneath the tree, whose branches shade, 441

I stood on the bridge at midnight, 45

I stood upon the hills, when heaven’s wide arch, 3

I thought before your tale began, 399

I thought this pen would arise, 504

I trust that somewhere and somehow, 399

If it e’er happen that the Poem Sacred, 548

If perhaps these rhymes of mine, 589

If thou art sleeping, maiden, 103

In broad daylight, and at noon, 470

In dark fens of the Dismal Swamp, 21

In his chamber, weak and dying, 38

In his lodge beside a river, 308

In Mather’s Magnalia Christi, 461

In Ocean’s wide domains, 23

In St. Luke’s Gospel we are told, 503

In that building, long and low, 472

In that delightful land which is washed by the Delaware’s waters, 135

In the Acadian land, on the shores of the Basin of Minas, 107

In the ancient town of Bruges, 30

In the convent of Drontheim, 379

In the heroic days when Ferdinand, 381

In the market-place of Bruges stands the belfry old and brown, 30

In the old churchyard of his native town, 500

In the Old Colony days, in Plymouth the land of the Pilgrims, 314

In the valley of the Pegintz, where across broad meadow-lands, 35

In the Valley of the Vire, 466

In the village churchyard she lies, 465

In those days, said Hiawatha, 291

In those days the Evil Spirits, 293

Intelligence and courtesy are not always combined, 589

Into the city of Kambalu, 397

Into the darkness and the hush of night, 442

Into the open air John Alden, perplexed, 322

Into the Silent Land, 590

Is it so far from thee, 501

It was Einar Tamberskelver, 378

It was fifty years ago, 476

It was Sir Christopher Gardiner, 421

It was the month of May. Far down the beautiful River, 123

It was the schooner Hesperus, 17

It was the season, when through all the land, 386

Italy! Italy! thou who’rt doomed to wear, 552

Joy and Temperance and Repose, 588

Just above yon sandy bar, 149

Just in the grey of the dawn as the mists uprose from the meadows, 325

King Christian stood by the lofty mast, 599

Labour with what zeal we will, 483

Laugh of the mountain!—lyre of bird and tree!, 535

Leafless are the trees; their purple branches, 473

Let nothing disturb thee, 535

Like two cathedral towers these stately pines, 443

Listen, my children, and you shall hear, 341

Live I, so live I, 589

Lo! in the painted oriel of the West, 435

Longing already to search in and round, 539

Lord, what am I, that with unceasing care, 536

Loud he sang the Psalm of David, 24

Loud the angry wind was wailing, 370

Loudly the sailors cheered, 375

Love, love, what wilt thou with this heart of mine, 554

Lutheran, Popish, Calvinistic, 589

Maiden! with the meek, brown eyes, 32

Manlike is it to fall into sin, 589

Many a weary year had passed since the burning of Grand-Pré, 122

Meanwhile the stalwart Miles Standish was marching steadily northward, 331

Month after month passed away, and in Autumn the ships of the merchants, 333

Most beautiful, most gentle! Yet how lost, 522

Mounted on Kyrat strong and fleet, 495

Much it behoveth, 573

My soul its secret hath, my life too hath its mystery, 569

My way is on the bright blue sea, 29

Near to the bank of the river, o’ershadowed by oaks, from whose branches, 126

Never stoops the soaring vulture, 304

Night rests in beauty on Mont Alto, 520

Nine sisters, beautiful in form and face, 439

No sound of wheels or hoof-beat breaks, 484

Northward over Drontheim, 374

Nothing was heard in the room but the hurrying pen of the stripling, 316

Now from all King Olaf’s farms, 363

Now had the season returned, when the nights grow colder and longer, 110

Now Time throws off his cloak again, 555

“Nunc plaudite” the Student cried, 419

O Cæsar, we who are about to die, 447

O company elect to the Great Supper, 544

O curfew of the setting Sun! O Bells of Lynn, 428

O gift of God! O perfect day, 480

O hemlock-tree! O hemlock-tree! how faithful are thy branches, 586

O, how blest are ye whose toils are ended, 591

O let the soul her slumbers break, 529

O little feet! that such long years, 483

O Lord! that seest, from yonder starry height, 536

O lovely river of Yvette!, 498

O precious evenings! all too swiftly sped, 437

O River of Yesterday, with current swift, 440

O star of morning and of liberty, 437

O the long and dreary Winter!, 306

O traveller, stay thy weary feet, 515

O weathercock on the village spire, 508

O’er all the hill-tops, 595

Of Edenhall the youthful lord, 597

Of Prometheus, how undaunted, 459

Oft have I seen at some cathedral door, 436

Often I think of the beautiful town, 470

Olaf the King, one summer morn, 366

Olger the Dane and Desiderio, 423

On King Olaf’s bridal night, 368

On St. Bavon’s tower, commanding, 499

On sunny slope and beechen swell, 5

On the cross the dying Saviour, 588

On the green little isle of Inchkenneth, 499

On the grey sea-sands, 376

On the Mountains of the Prairie, 256

On the shores of Gitche Gumee, 276

Once into a quiet village, 152

Once more, once more, Inarimé, 491

Once the Emperor Charles of Spain, 464

Once upon Iceland’s solitary strand, 444

One Autumn night, in Sudbury town, 338

One day, Haroun Al Raschid read, 496

One hundred years ago, and something more, 406

One summer morning when the sun was hot, 345

Only the Lowland tongue of Scotland might, 560

Othere, the old sea-captain, 477

Our God a tower of strength is he, 251

Out of childhood into manhood, 264

Out of the bosom of the Air, 484

Pentecost, day of rejoicing, had come, 577

Pleasant it was, when woods were green, 7

Pleasantly rose next morn the sun on the village of Grand-Pré, 115

Poet! I come to touch thy lance with mine, 443

Quand les astres de Noël, 431

Queen Sigrid the Haughty sat proud and aloft, 361

Rabbi Ben Levi, on the Sabbath, read, 352

River! that in silence windest, 27

Robert of Sicily, brother of Pope Urbane, 254

Round Autumn’s mouldering urn, 519

Safe at anchor in Drontheim Bay, 373

Saint Augustine! well hast thou said, 460

St. Botolph’s Town! Hither across the plains, 442

See, the fire is sinking low, 429

She dwells by great Kenhawa’s side, 21

Shepherd! who with thine amorous, sylvan song, 535

Short of stature, large of limb, 368

Should you ask me, whence these stories?, 255

Simon Danz has come home again, 488

Sing! O song of Hiawatha, 289

Sir Oluf he rideth over the plain, 600

Sleep, comrades, sleep and rest, 513

Slowly the hour-hand of the clock moves round, 439

So the strong will prevailed, and Alden went on his errand, 318

Solemnly, mournfully, 48

Somewhat back from the village street, 53

Soon as the story reached its end, 351

Southward with fleet of ice, 147

Spake full well, in language quaint and olden, 11

Speak! speak! thou fearful guest, 15

Spring is coming, birds are twittering, 574

Stars of the summer night, 59

Stay, stay at home, my heart, and rest, 492

Steer, bold mariner, on! albeit witlings deride thee, 606

Still through Egypt’s desert places, 512

“Strike the sails!” King Olaf said, 377

Sweet babe! true portrait of thy father’s face, 553

Sweet the memory is to me, 487

Taddeo Gaddi built me. I am old, 551

Take them, O Death! and bear away, 155

Tell me not, in mournful numbers, 9

The Ages come and go, 253

The archbishop, whom God loved in high degree, 556

The battle is fought and won, 419

The ceaseless rain is falling fast, 490

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary, 25

The day is done, and the darkness, 51

The day is ending, 54

The guests were loud, the ale was strong, 364

The hour was late; the fire burned low, 392

The Landlord ended thus his tale, 344

The lights are out, and gone are all the guests, 445

The meadow-brook, that seemeth to stand still, 446

The night is come, but not too soon, 11

The old house by the lindens, 155

The pages of thy book I read, 20

The picture fades; as at a village fair, 445

The rising moon has hid the stars, 26

The rivers rush into the sea, 592

The rocky ledge runs far into the sea, 146

The sea hath its pearls, 590

The shades of night were falling fast, 46

The Slaver in the broad lagoon, 22

The sun is bright, the air is clear, 25

The tide rises, the tide falls, 511

The twilight is sad and cloudy, 145

The works of human artifice soon tire, 537

There is a quiet spirit in these woods, 5

There is a Reaper, whose name is Death, 10

There is no flock, however watched and tended, 149

There sat one day in quiet, 593

There was a time when I was very small, 602

These words the poet heard in Paradise, 517

They made the warrior’s grave beside, 526

This is the Arsenal. From floor to ceiling, 33

This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, 106

This is the place. Stand still, my steed, 34

This song of mine, 474

Thora of Rimol! hide me! hide me, 360

Thorberg Skafting, master-builder, 372

Thou ancient oak! whose myriad leaves are loud, 438

Thou comest, Autumn, heralded by the rain, 434

Thou mighty Prince of Church and State, 557

Thou Royal River, born of sun and shower, 443

Thou that from the heaven’s art, 595

Though the mills of God grind slowly, 589

Three Kings came riding from far away, 496

Three miles extended around the fields of the homestead; on three sides, 573

Three Silences there are; the first of speech, 442

Thus closed the tale of guilt and gloom, 386

Thus for a while he stood, and mused by the shore of the ocean, 328

Thus sang the Potter at his task, 454

Thus then, much care-worn, 571

’Tis late at night, and in the realm of sleep, 435

To gallop off to town post-haste, 555

To noble heart Love doth for shelter fly, 552

Turn, turn, my wheel! Turn round and round, 454

Tuscan, that wanderest through the realms of gloom, 435

’Twas Pentecost, the Feast of Gladness, 595

Two angels, one of Life and one of Death, 465

Two good friends had Hiawatha, 270

Under a spreading chestnut-tree, 26

Under Mount Etna he lies, 481

Under the walls of Monterey, 469

Until we meet again! That is the meaning, 510

Up soared the lark into the air, 489

Viswamitra the magician, 496

Vogelweid the Minnesinger, 50

Warm and still is the summer night, 491

We sat within the farm-house old, 145

Welcome, my old friend, 49

Welcome, O Stork! that dost wing, 604

Well pleased the audience heard the tale, 410

What an image of peace and rest, 507

What phantom is this, that appears, 503

What say the Bells of San Blas, 516

What was the end? I am ashamed, 402

When by night the frogs are croaking, 589

When descends on the Atlantic, 51

When first in ancient time from Jubal’s tongue, 518

When Mazáran, the magician, 498

When the dying flame of day, 4

When the hours of Day are numbered, 9

When the long murmur of applause, 406

When the summer harvest was gathered in, 37

When the warm sun, that brings, 1

When winter winds are piercing chill, 4

Whene’er a noble deed is wrought, 476

Where, from the eye of day, 528

Whereunto is money good?, 588

Whilom Love was like a fire, 589

White swan of cities, slumbering in thy nest, 439

Whither, thou turbid wave, 591

Who love would seek, 596

Why dost thou wildly rush and roar, 514

Will then, du Perrier, thy sorrow be eternal, 558

With favouring winds, o’er sunlit seas, 511

With what a glory comes and goes the year, 2

Witlaf, a king of the Saxons, 153

Ye voices, that arose, 14

Yes, the Year is growing old, 13

Yes, well your story pleads the cause, 396

Yet not in vain. O River of Yesterday, 440

You shall hear how Hiawatha, 267

You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewis, 282, 296

You were not at the play to-night, Don Carlos, 55

THE END.

MORRISON AND GIBB, EDINBURGH, PRINTERS TO HER MAJESTY’S STATIONERY OFFICE.

Footnotes: