ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON
PAGE
[A]At a Tenement Window[53]
[A]At Early Candle-lighting[18]
Banditti[65]
[B]"Bob White"[25]
Echoes from Erin[47]
Elinor[114]
[B]Felipa, Wife of Columbus[60]
Interlude[79]
In this Cradle-life of Ours[74]
My Carol[71]
October[88]
On a Fly-leaf of "Afterwhiles"[118]
On a Fly-leaf of "Flute and Violin" [115]
Prelude (Now I Can Sing, etc.)[xiii]
Retrospection[45]
Spendthrift[67]
The Fickle Heart[64]
The Legend of the Pansies[102]
[A]Through an Amber Pane[50]
Trailing Arbutus[100]
'Twixt Creek and Bay[62]
Voices of the Old, Old Days[39]

ALBION FELLOWS BACON.
A Madrigal[98]
[C]A Mood[101]
A Resolve[123]
A Song[55]
An Alpine Valley[49]
An Old-time Pedagogue[31]
At Last[125]
At Twilight[90]
Chiaro-Oscuro[120]
Eclipse[57]
Elizabeth[113]
Grandfather[27]
Her Title-deeds[34]
Here and There[75]
In the Dark[58]
Inspiration[116]
Left Out[95]
Lost[69]
May-time[84]
Married[108]
Motherhood[109]
"Oh, Dreary Day"[83]
On a Fly-leaf of Irving[117]
Ophelia[111]
"Our Father"[97]
Prelude (We Cannot Sing, etc.)[xiii]
Requiem[112]
Silent Keys[41]
Spring's Cophetua[86]
Stranded[124]
Sufficiency[110]
The Lighting of the Candles[17]
The Milky Way[76]
The Old Bell[106]
The Old Church[29]
The Potter's Field[93]
The Prophet[91]
The Robber[70]
The Sea[107]
The Silent Brotherhood[66]
The Time o' Day[99]
The Tower of Babel[104]
Winter Beauty[87]
When Youth is Gone[63]
When She Comes Home[122]

FOOTNOTES:

[A] By permission of Youth's Companion.

[B] By permission of Harper's Weekly.

[C] By permission of Frank Leslie.

PRELUDE.

WE cannot sing of life, whose years are brief,
Nor sad heart-stories tell, who know no grief,
Nor write of shipwrecks on the seas of Fate,
Whose ship from out the harbor sailed but late.
But we may sing of fair and sunny days,
Of Love that walks in peace through quiet ways;
And unto him who turns the page to see
Our simple story, haply it may be
As when in some mild day in early spring,
One through the budding woods goes wandering;
And finds, where late the snow has blown across,
Beneath the leaves, a violet in the moss.
1887. A. F. B.

NOW I can sing of life, whose days are brief,
For I have walked close hand in hand with grief.
And I may tell of shipwrecked hopes, since mine
Sank just outside the happy harbor line.
But still my song is of those sunny days
When Love was with me in those quiet ways.
And unto him who turns the page to see
That day's short story, haply it may be,
The joy of those old memories he feels:
As one who through the wintry twilight steals,
And sees, across the chilly wastes of snow,
The darkened sunset's rosy afterglow.
1892. A. F. J.