LIPPINCOTT’S

THE BELLMAN

THE SMART SET

INDEX OF FIRST LINES

PAGE
Aye, down the years, behold, he rides.
Percy Adams Hutchison[54]
Because on the branch that is tapping my pane.
Arthur Guiterman[7]
Did you choose the journey, friend?
Ruth Sterry[62]
Distant as a dream’s flight.
John G. Neihardt[17]
Eternal in the brooding of the old Norwegian spruces.
Ruth Guthrie Harding[4]
Ever as sinks the day on sea or land.
George Sterling[52]
Face in the tomb, that lies so still.
Richard Le Gallienne[22]
For the sake of a weathered gray city set high on a hill.
Amelia J. Burr[25]
God meant me to be hungry.
Mildred Howells[8]
Hark ye! Hush ye! Margot’s dead.
Ruth Comfort Mitchell[50]
Hark you such sound as quivers? Kings will hear.
Mahlon Leonard Fisher[61]
How an image of paint and wood.
Agnes Lee[12]
I know a vale where I would go one day.
Bliss Carman[24]
I saw her in a Broadway car.
Sara Teasdale[19]
I think that I shall never see.
Joyce Kilmer[7]
I thought I had forgotten you.
Ethel M. Hewitt[21]
I thought my heart would break.
Charles Hanson Towne[22]
I went to the place where my youth took birth.
Willard Huntington Wright[18]
If I am slow forgetting.
Margaret Lee Ashley[3]
In every line a supple beauty.
Willa Sibert Cather[46]
It’s little that I’d care for the glories of Ireland.
Edward J. O’Brien[16]
Lest I learn, with clearer sight.
Witter Bynner[18]
Lo—to the battle-ground of Life.
Louis Untermeyer[9]
Love you not the tall trees spreading wide their branches.
Tertius van Dyke[8]
May is building her house. With apple blooms.
Richard Le Gallienne[3]
Midnight, and in the darkness not a sound.
Sara Teasdale[13]
O blest Imagination.
George Edward Woodberry[28]
Oh, joy that burns in Denver tavern.
Francis Hill[49]
Old Hezekiah leaned hard on his hoe.
Percy MacKaye[30]
One whom I loved and never can forget.
Hermann Hagedorn[23]
Outside hove Shasta, snowy height on height.
Witter Bynner[38]
Over the dim edge of sleep I lean.
Robert Alden Sanborn[9]
Over the wintry threshold.
Bliss Carman[2]
Proud men.
Nicholas Vachel Lindsay[39]
Sicilian Muse! O thou who sittest dumb.
Louis V. Ledoux[57]
Sorrow, quit me for a while.
Florence Earle Coates[20]
The moon’s ashine; by many a lane.
Richard Burton[62]
The sickle is dulled of the reaping and the threshing-floor is bare.
Shaemas OSheel[43]
The snug little room with its brazier fire aglow.
William Rose Benét[34]
The twilight is starred.
John Hall Wheelock[20]
The Wind bows down the poplar trees.
Fannie Stearns Davis[5]
They call you cold New England.
Marguerite Mooers Marshall[27]
War shook the land where Levi dwelt.
Edwin Arlington Robinson[48]
Weave the dance, and raise again the sacred chorus.
Louis V. Ledoux[1]
Weighed down by grief, o’erborne by deep despair.
Richard Burton[23]
What of the night?
Willard Huntington Wright[55]
With rod and line I took my way.
Madison Cawein[5]