INDEX OF FIRST LINES
| PAGE | |
| A blood-red ring hung round the moon | [198] |
| Adieu to these!—Niagara, thy roar | [351] |
| A forethought of the fated reign of peace | [78] |
| After her bath yet early in the day | [270] |
| Ah, list the music of the whistling wings | [17] |
| Ah, what if the mind | [2] |
| A lark sprang up to greet the dawn | [181] |
| A little while before the fall was done | [341] |
| All day the sun drops gold, the grassy mead | [244] |
| All hail to the day when the Britons came over | [147] |
| Among the fine old kings that reign | [215] |
| An ashen grey touched faint my night-dark room | [279] |
| And no one saw, while it was dark | [349] |
| And this is Louisburg, whose moss-grown ruin | [144] |
| A perfect artist hath been here; the scene | [40] |
| A rocky channel from the harbor led | [111] |
| Around the world the fame is blown | [230] |
| Art thou not sweet, Oh world | [210] |
| As hills seem Alps, when veiled in misty shroud | [288] |
| A shell lies silent on a lonely shore | [261] |
| A star leant down and laid a silver hand | [77] |
| A stream of tender gladness | [157] |
| As the light beyond draws nearer | [200] |
| As the twilight's grey was swallowed | [118] |
| As time past onwards, day by day | [217] |
| At husking time the tassel fades | [156] |
| At the close of the day, when the year was a-dying | [98] |
| At the forging of the Sword | [76] |
| At the postern gate of Day | [208] |
| Awake, my country, the hour is great with change | [296] |
| Ay, lay them to rest on the prairie | [64] |
| A young-eyed seer, amid the leafy ways | [192] |
| Because, dear Christ, your tender, wounded arm | [158] |
| Behind Jacques Cartier's hills the sun sinks low | [11] |
| Behold the foe of Grub Street's lettered fools | [30] |
| Behold, the maize fields set their pennons free | [368] |
| Beshrew the coined gold!—and so, take heed | [141] |
| Birds that were grey in the green are black in the yellow | [128] |
| Bite deep and wide, O Axe, the tree | [73] |
| Blue-black like the breast of the gusty sea | [243] |
| Borne on the wavelets of thy fluent notes | [238] |
| Butterfly, Flutter by | [68] |
| By cliffs grown grey, as men grow grey | [346] |
| Canada, Canada, land of the maple | [289] |
| City about whose brow the north wind blows | [329] |
| "Close up in front, and steady, lads!" brave Stewart cries, "They're here" | [70] |
| "Cold," cried the wind on the hill | [310] |
| Columbus came to thee and called thee new | [356] |
| Come and let me make thee glad | [338] |
| Come down from the heights, my bird | [386] |
| Come, happy morn, serene and fair | [32] |
| Come hither, Sleep, from Chio's isle | [225] |
| Come, walk with the world and go down to the destitute homes of the poor | [354] |
| Cradled within the arms of night | [22] |
| Dark tresses made rich with all treasures | [255] |
| Dead! dead! And now before | [26] |
| Deserted nest, that on the leafless tree | [148] |
| Did you see the snowy castle | [379] |
| Down from the blue the sun has driven | [227] |
| Down the long lanes of Arcadie | [312] |
| Do you remember, dear, a night in June | [197] |
| Draw nigh with reverence, Canada | [211] |
| Dreary, dreary, Fundy's mists are sweeping | [59] |
| Enough! the lie is ended. God only owns the land | [27] |
| Eyes of blue and hair of gold | [2] |
| Eyes that we look into—so | [309] |
| Facing the ocean, guardian of our land | [117] |
| Fair bird, whose silvery pinions sweep | [212] |
| Faith spread her wings to seek the realms of day | [202] |
| Fancy many forms assumes | [121] |
| For three whole days across the sky | [170] |
| From out the cold house of the north | [8] |
| God spake three times and saved Van Elsen's soul | [335] |
| God speaks, life beats within the brain | [69] |
| Gone, brother, lover, son! | [63] |
| Good Christmas bells, I pray you | [91] |
| Greatest twain among the nations | [318] |
| Hack and Hew were the sons of God | [49] |
| Had I two loaves of bread—ay—ay! | [276] |
| Hail, first of the Spring | [277] |
| Hail to the pride of the forest—hail! | [244] |
| Helot drink—nor spare the wine | [74] |
| Here at the change of ways, the steel steed halts | [117] |
| Here is the old church. Now I see it all | [285] |
| Her gold hair fallen about her face | [313] |
| He sits at last among his peers | [249] |
| He wandered down, an Orpheus wilder-souled | [358] |
| He who but yesterday would roam | [300] |
| He who would start and rise | [304] |
| Hilloo, hilloo, hilloo, hilloo | [370] |
| How beautiful she was, the little maiden | [240] |
| How bold the Imagination and how strong | [281] |
| How fair thou art the poets long have known | [138] |
| How thick about the window of my life | [377] |
| Hushed is the voice of scorn | [380] |
| I am, and therefore these | [278] |
| I ask not for Thy love, O Lord; the days | [315] |
| I awoke from the dreams of the night | [96] |
| I came upon a drawer to-day | [20] |
| I come, ye lovely wildwood groves | [232] |
| "If Peepy had lived," the mother sighed | [161] |
| If, pilgrim, chance thy steps should lead | [219] |
| If you would see Venice as she is | [359] |
| I had a garden when I was a boy | [110] |
| I have been wandering where the daisies grow | [9] |
| I hear the bells at eventide | [326] |
| I hear the wondrous lyre | [353] |
| I know not what my heart has lost | [261] |
| I know that death is God's interpreter | [346] |
| I know thee not, O spirit fair | [184] |
| I'll sing you a song of the sea | [120] |
| I loiter here within the ancient town | [33] |
| I loved my Art, I loved it when the tide | [264] |
| In a city of churches and chapels | [202] |
| In a veil of white vapor, hushed stars moving through | [31] |
| In meadows deep with hay, I see | [367] |
| In my heart are many chambers through which I wander free | [286] |
| In shadowy calm the boat | [351] |
| In sooth he was a mighty king | [189] |
| In the glimmering light of the Old Regime | [25] |
| In the heart of a man | [301] |
| In the Rheingan standeth Aix | [106] |
| In the silence of the morning, through the softly rising mist | [381] |
| I read on de paper mos' ev'ry day, all about Jubilee | [101] |
| I rested on the breezy height | [323] |
| I sat within the temple of the heart | [320] |
| I see a schooner in the bay | [327] |
| I shall not pass this way again | [382] |
| Is there a God, then, above us? | [43] |
| I stood and saw the angel of the dawn | [206] |
| I swing to the sunset land | [159] |
| I swing to the land of morn | [159] |
| I talked about you, Dear, the other night | [292] |
| It comes! This strange bird from a distant clime | [236] |
| It comforts me through all my days | [251] |
| I thought as I watched in the dawning dim | [265] |
| I thought of death beside the lonely sea | [329] |
| It is enough that in this burdened time | [264] |
| It is growing dark | [283] |
| It was one of those grand cathedrals, | [177] |
| I watch the printer's clever hand | [218] |
| I watch the ships by town and lea | [114] |
| I will not tell thee why the land | [271] |
| Joy came in youth as a humming-bird | [10] |
| Last night, and there came a guest | [99] |
| Let other tongues in older lands | [116] |
| Let us bury him here | [339] |
| Life gives us better than it takes away | [250] |
| Life has two sovereign moments | [167] |
| Lightly He blows, and at His breath they fall | [304] |
| Like gallant courtiers, the forest trees | [379] |
| Like Israel's seer I come from out the earth | [280] |
| Like marble, nude, against the purple sky | [137] |
| Like mists that round a mountain grey | [192] |
| Little Miss Blue Eyes opens the door | [374] |
| Long, long ago, it seems, this summer morn | [172] |
| Love built a crimson house | [48] |
| Lover of man, if not of God, the Sea | [238] |
| Love sayeth: Sing of me! | [197] |
| Love's sun, like that of day, may set, and set | [321] |
| May, blighted by keen frosts, passed on to June | [364] |
| Merry mad-cap on the tree | [229] |
| Methought the stream of Time had backward rolled | [343] |
| Mildly through the mists of night | [348] |
| Mother of Swords! while the river runs | [268] |
| My purest longings spring | [114] |
| My sandalled feet are firm and fleet | [160] |
| Mysterious life! we speak as if we knew | [248] |
| Naked and shaggy, they herded at eve by the sound of the seas | [332] |
| Nilus! Nilus! and before them rolled | [107] |
| No flame of war was he, no flower of grace | [166] |
| Not in eyed, expectant gloom | [303] |
| Not to be conquered by these headlong days | [168] |
| Now along the solemn heights | [307] |
| Now hath the summer reached her golden close | [174] |
| Now the Fraser gleamed | [87] |
| Now wherefore trembles still the string | [83] |
| O, bella fior del mondo! to-morrow | [316] |
| O blessed angel of the All-bounteous King | [85] |
| O brothers! thro' how many lands | [196] |
| O covering grasses! O unchanging trees | [340] |
| O do you hear the merry waters falling | [193] |
| O elder sister, though thou didst of yore | [342] |
| O'er the white waste of drifted sands unstable | [260] |
| Of all the tiny race of Skye | [341] |
| Oft I have met her | [236] |
| O gifted son of our dear land and time | [288] |
| Oh, Gentle-breath goes singing, goes singing through the grass | [138] |
| Oh the shambling sea is a sexton old | [46] |
| Oh, what could wake life that first sweet flame | [286] |
| O, Love builds on the azure sea | [73] |
| O Love, can the tree lure the summer bird | [356] |
| O master-builder, blustering as you go | [377] |
| On a stone by the wayside, half-naked and cold | [213] |
| Once more the robin flutes in glee | [145] |
| Once ye were happy, once by many a shore | [169] |
| One by one they pass away | [243] |
| "Only a penny, Sir!" | [280] |
| Only in dreams she appears to me | [129] |
| On the crimson cloth | [3] |
| Open, my heart, the ruddy valves | [131] |
| Ope your doors and take me in | [376] |
| O Richard, my King, lion-hearted, behold | [36] |
| O rivers rolling to the sea | [297] |
| O ship incoming from the sea | [325] |
| O sweet unto my heart is the song my mother sings | [262] |
| O tender love of long ago | [330] |
| O, the East is but the West, with the sun a little hotter | [344] |
| O Thou who hast beneath Thy hand | [309] |
| O Twenty, running through the wood | [140] |
| Our mother is the good green earth | [372] |
| Out of the dreams that heap | [305] |
| Over the field the bright air clings and tingles | [326] |
| O very, very far from our dull earth | [72] |
| Pale Melancholy, faithfully thou lov'st | [352] |
| Pallid saffron glows the broken stubble | [322] |
| Proud, languid lily of the sacred Nile | [109] |
| Quebec, the grey old city on the hill | [36] |
| Remote, upon the sunset shrine | [194] |
| Ripple, ripple, ripple | [180] |
| Rome, Florence, Venice,—noble, fair and quaint | [186] |
| "Saddle and mount and away"—— | [23] |
| Sang one of England in his island home | [357] |
| Sans peur et sans reproche!—our lion-heart | [199] |
| See how the Morn awakes. Along the sky | [132] |
| She died—as die the roses | [204] |
| She is so winsome and so wise | [35] |
| Shaper of breathing lives, and Lord of all above | [350] |
| Shepherd Jesus, in Thy arms | [69] |
| Shy bird of the silver arrows of song | [1] |
| Simon bent to his hissing saw | [133] |
| Since I rose out of child-oblivion | [265] |
| Sing a song of springtime | [205] |
| Sing me a song of the great Dominion | [290] |
| Sleep, sleep imperious heart! Sleep, fair and undefiled! | [295] |
| Slowly rose the dœdal Earth | [321] |
| Some glad thing comes to me | [252] |
| Son of Britannia's isle | [361] |
| "Son of Light," I murmured lowly | [92] |
| So sat I yesterday, with weary eyes | [163] |
| So tremulous the flame of thinking burns | [224] |
| Speed on, speed on, good Master | [336] |
| Sprung from a sword-sheath fit for Mars | [126] |
| Standing on tiptoe ever since my youth | [43] |
| Still, in the light of morning grey | [142] |
| Still, though the sun is setting | [241] |
| "Summer is dead!"—it was the wind that spake | [142] |
| Sweet child of an April shower | [231] |
| Swifter the flight! Far, far and high | [67] |
| Swift troopers twain ride side by side | [373] |
| Take not from me my lute | [104] |
| Take the mouldering dust | [247] |
| Talk not to me of Tempe's flowery vale | [205] |
| The air is still, the night is dark | [247] |
| The blooming flowers, the galaxies of space | [277] |
| The bloom of the roses, the youth of the fair | [382] |
| The brine is in our blood from days of yore | [142] |
| The broad round-shouldered giant Earth | [81] |
| The chime of bells across the waking sky | [313] |
| The dark has passed and the chill Autumn morn | [8] |
| The darkness brings no quiet here, the light | [168] |
| The days begin to wane and evening lifts | [6] |
| The dew is gleaming in the grass | [169] |
| The dusky warriors stood in groups | [182] |
| The dykes, half-bare, are lying in the bath | [137] |
| The earth is the cup of the sun | [170] |
| The furrows of life Time is plowing | [353] |
| The heart of Merrie England sang in thee | [30] |
| Their very gods, it seems, we have forgot | [357] |
| The immortal spirit hath no bars | [335] |
| The mountains gather round thee as of yore | [285] |
| Then sighed the wandering Angel sore | [369] |
| The ocean bursts in very wrath | [69] |
| The purple shadows, dreamingly | [60] |
| There are no colors in God's heaven bent bow | [81] |
| There came a day of showers | [299] |
| There is a beauty at the goal of life | [177] |
| There's a beautiful Artist abroad in the world | [384] |
| There's a little gray friar in yonder green bush | [216] |
| The red-til'd towers of the old Chateau | [127] |
| There is no God! if one should stand at noon | [11] |
| There is rain upon the window | [328] |
| There is the school-house; there the lake, the lawn | [285] |
| The restless clock is ticking out | [375] |
| The rivers that sweep to the sea | [254] |
| There lies a lone isle in the tropic seas | [331] |
| There's a whisper of life in the grey dead trees | [360] |
| There was a time on this fair continent | [233] |
| The rowan tree grows by the tower foot | [208] |
| These are the days that try us; these the hours | [128] |
| The sky had a grey, grey face | [139] |
| The song unsung more sweet shall ring | [70] |
| The sonnet is a diamond flashing round | [41] |
| The sweet Star of the Bethlehem night | [186] |
| The sun goes down, and over all | [45] |
| The sun has gone down in liquid gold | [97] |
| The tide flows in and out, and leaves | [113] |
| The twilight land toyed with the night | [149] |
| The wild birds strangely call | [207] |
| They have a saying in the East | [167] |
| They hide within the hollows, and they creep into the dell | [365] |
| They journey sadly, slowly on | [33] |
| This is the white winter day of his burial | [51] |
| This Canada of ours | [116] |
| This is the purple sea of ancient song | [146] |
| This river of azure with many a weed in | [272] |
| Those far-off fields, how fair they seem | [118] |
| Thou askest not to know the creed | [248] |
| Thou sweet-souled comrade of a time gone by | [188] |
| Through a Gethsemane of city streets | [218] |
| 'Tis dawn, but not such morning-tide | [123] |
| 'Tis the laughter of pines that swing and sway | [112] |
| 'Tis the sound of a silver-toned bell | [224] |
| 'Tis solemn darkness, the sublime of shade | [132] |
| 'Tis summer still, yet now and then a leaf | [322] |
| True comrade, we have tested life together | [314] |
| 'Twas midnight. Darkness, like the glow of some funereal pall | [256] |
| 'Twas on a day, and in high radiant heaven | [133] |
| Under the ward of the Polar Star | [269] |
| Up by the idling reef-set bell | [52] |
| Upon the heights of Sillery one day | [163] |
| Vast, unrevealed, in silence and the night | [301] |
| Wanted, a stalwart man | [282] |
| War-worn, sun-scorched, stained with the dust of toil | [66] |
| We fear not the thunder, we fear not the rain | [234] |
| West wind blow from your prairie nest | [155] |
| What reck we of the creeds of men?— | [43] |
| What shall withstand her? Who shall gainsay her? | [38] |
| What went ye to the wilderness to see? | [162] |
| When early shades of evening close | [40] |
| Whence comes the charm that broods along the shore | [290] |
| When God sends out His company to travel through the stars | [306] |
| When high above the busy street, | [363] |
| When ploughmen ridge the steamy brown | [364] |
| When the Sleepy Man comes with dust on his eyes | [302] |
| When tree and bush are comfortless | [31] |
| Where are the men of my heart's desire | [311] |
| Where does my sweetheart Baby go | [226] |
| Where the soft shadows fall | [254] |
| Where the world is grey and lone | [89] |
| Where, where will be the birds that sing | [347] |
| Whom would you choose? for, lo, the chief is dead | [28] |
| Wide are the plains to the north and the westward | [187] |
| Winged wonder of motion | [273] |
| Within, a panic-stricken throng | [180] |
| With folded wings of dusky light | [216] |
| With fragrance flown, as of a long-plucked bud | [345] |
| With slender arms outstretching in the sun | [378] |
| You ask for fame and power | [41] |
TURNBULL AND SPEARS, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH.