| i. | The Vagabond—Give to me the life I love |
| ii. | Youth and Love: i.—Once only by the garden gate |
| iii. | Youth and Love: ii.—To the heart of youth the world is a highwayside |
| iv. | In dreams, unhappy, I behold you stand |
| v. | She rested by the Broken Brook |
| vi. | The infinite shining heavens |
| vii. | Plain as the glistering planets shine |
| viii. | To you, let snows and roses |
| ix. | Let Beauty awake in the morn from beautiful dreams |
| x. | I know not how it is with you |
| xi. | I will make you brooches and toys for your delight |
| xii. | We have loved of Yore—Berried brake and reedy island |
| xiii. | Mater Triumphans—Son of my woman’s body, you go, to the drum and fife |
| xiv. | Bright is the ring of words |
| xv. | In the highlands, in the country places |
| xvi. | Home no more home to me, wither must I wander? |
| xvii. | Winter—In rigorous hours, when down the iron lane |
| xviii. | The stormy evening closes now in vain |
| xix. | To Dr. Hake—In the belovèd hour that ushers day |
| xx. | To ---—I knew thee strong and quiet like the hills |
| xxi. | The morning drum-call on my eager ear |
| xxii. | I have trod the upward and downward slope |
| xxiii. | He hears with gladdened heart the thunder |
| xxiv. | Farewell, fair day and fading light! |
| xxv. | If this were Faith—God, if this were enough |
| xxvi. | My Wife—Trusty, dusky, vivid, true |
| xxvii. | To the Muse—Resign the rhapsody, the dream |
| xxviii. | To an Island Princess—Since long ago, a child at home |
| xxix. | To Kalakaua—The Sliver Ship, my King—that was her name |
| xxx. | To Princess Kaiulani—Forth form her land to mine she goes |
| xxxi. | To Mother Maryanne—To see the infinite pity of this place |
| xxxii. | In Memoriam E. H.—I knew a silver head was bright beyond compare |
| xxxiii. | To my Wife—Long must elapse ere you behold again |
| xxxiv. | To my Old Familiars—Do you remember—can we e’er forget? |
| xxxv. | The tropics vanish, and meseems that I |
| xxxvi. | To S. C.—I heard the pulse of the besieging sea |
| xxxvii. | The House of Tembinoka—Let us, who part like brothers, part like bards |
| xxxviii. | The Woodman—In all the grove, not stream nor bird |
| xxxix. | Tropic Rain—As the single pang of the blow, when the metal is mingled well |
| xl. | An End of Travel—Let now your soul in this substantial world |
| xli. | We uncommiserate pass into the night |
| xlii. | Sing me a song of a lad that is gone |
| xliii. | To S. R. Crockett—Blows the wind to-day, and the sun and rain are flying |
| xliv. | Evensong—The embers of the day are red |
I—THE VAGABOND
(To an air of Schubert)
Give to me the life I love,
Let the lave go by me,
Give the jolly heaven above
And the byway nigh me.
Bed in the bush with stars to see,
Bread I dip in the river—
There’s the life for a man like me,
There’s the life for ever.
Let the blow fall soon or late,
Let what will be o’er me;
Give the face of earth around
And the road before me.
Wealth I seek not, hope nor love,
Nor a friend to know me;
All I seek, the heaven above
And the road below me.
Or let autumn fall on me
Where afield I linger,
Silencing the bird on tree,
Biting the blue finger.
White as meal the frosty field—
Warm the fireside haven—
Not to autumn will I yield,
Not to winter even!
Let the blow fall soon or late,
Let what will be o’er me;
Give the face of earth around,
And the road before me.
Wealth I ask not, hope nor love,
Nor a friend to know me;
All I ask, the heaven above
And the road below me.
II—YOUTH AND LOVE—I
Once only by the garden gate
Our lips we joined and parted.
I must fulfil an empty fate
And travel the uncharted.
Hail and farewell! I must arise,
Leave here the fatted cattle,
And paint on foreign lands and skies
My Odyssey of battle.
The untented Kosmos my abode,
I pass, a wilful stranger:
My mistress still the open road
And the bright eyes of danger.