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To EMELINE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
SONG-WAVES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17 A bird on sudden, as I write . . . . . . . . . . . . 48 Above the scarred cliff's iron brow . . . . . . . . 23 Across the hills the cattle call . . . . . . . . . . 39 After the winds there is surcease . . . . . . . . . 24 All day an ashen light serene . . . . . . . . . . . 55 A quiet breath distils in calm . . . . . . . . . . . 33 As on a hill-top near the sun . . . . . . . . . . . 46 As turns my heart its crimson leaves . . . . . . . . 53
Break into flower, O garden fair . . . . . . . . . . 93
Calm soul, unkindled by the sight . . . . . . . . . 36 Celestial sweetness swift outstrips . . . . . . . . 61
Dimly beheld, thou excellent . . . . . . . . . . . . 57 Doubt flies before the truth that's quired . . . . . 28
Fair as the light on fire-tipt hills . . . . . . . . 58 Far off and veiled it seems to me . . . . . . . . . 34 Far up the brook, beyond the lin . . . . . . . . . . 78 Filled oft with portents, oft withdrawn . . . . . . 25 Frail Lucia of a mutual love . . . . . . . . . . . . 87 Fresh sprig of greenest southernwood . . . . . . . . 49
Green tracery of fern to rust . . . . . . . . . . . 74
Hail, Mary, honored of the race . . . . . . . . . . 86 Her steps fall sweet as summer rain . . . . . . . . 60 Hope's clear blue eye is open wide . . . . . . . . . 82 How swift soft-feathered Time sails on . . . . . . . 71
I dreamed I drew my parting breath . . . . . . . . . 80 I feel the season's dreamy call . . . . . . . . . . 50 If mighty angels fair and tall . . . . . . . . . . . 38 I keep one picture in my heart . . . . . . . . . . . 52 Immortal Love, immortal ruth . . . . . . . . . . . . 94 Impressions vast and vague flow in . . . . . . . . . 19 I see that power is not in art . . . . . . . . . . . 83 I would enshrine in silvern song . . . . . . . . . . 13
Like oxeye daisies of the field . . . . . . . . . . 91 Look now! The crested waters sleep . . . . . . . . 70 Love bows herself in holy prayer . . . . . . . . . . 45 Love's inspirations of the lyre . . . . . . . . . . 90
Man's highest word, as God's above . . . . . . . . . 44 Men plow and sow while moves the sun . . . . . . . . 27 My quickened sense can only plod . . . . . . . . . . 72
Never before has my ear heard . . . . . . . . . . . 56
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