INDEX TO FIRST LINES. The bell strikes one; we take no note of time. The chestnuts shine through the cloven rind The curfew tolls the knell of parting day The day is done, and the darkness The feast is o'er! Now brimming wine The melancholy days are come The night wind with a desolate moan swept by The old man sat by the chimney side The pathway of the sinking moon The ports of death are sin; of life good deeds There breathes no being but has some pretence These, as they change, Almighty Father, these The soul, secure in her existence, smiles The stars are forth, the moon above the tops This ancient silver bowl of mine 'Tis not for man to trifle; life is brief. 'Tis summer eve, when heaven's ethereal bow 192 114 160 Thou hast been where the rocks of coral grow 216 162 To be, or not to be, that is the question 70 The time for toil has passed, and night has come The warm sun is failing The world, dear John, as the old folks told us They grew in beauty side by side Walk with the Beautiful and with the Grand We do not make our thoughts; they grow in us We live in deeds, not years PAGE 287 23 189 135 202 219 94 27 122 152 177 What would I have you do? I'll tell you, kinsman 235 When the radiant morn of creation broke Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget'st so long Wouldst thou live long? The only means are these Y. Yet one smile more, departing, distant sun You see the slender spire that peers Youth that pursuest with such eager pace |