A Day of Sunshine.

Interlude: A strain of music closed the tale (Tales of a Wayside Inn). Prelude: The Wayside Inn.

The Legend of Rabbi Ben Levi (Tales of a Wayside Inn).

King Robert of Sicily (Tales of a Wayside Inn).

Torquemada (Tales of a Wayside Inn). The Cumberland.

*Five Interludes to First Part of Tales of a Wayside Inn.

The Falcon of Ser Federigo (Tales of a Wayside Inn).

The Birds of Killingworth (Tales of a Wayside Inn).

*Finale to Part First of Tales of a Wayside Inn.

*Something left Undone. * Weariness.

The Abbot Joachim: First Interlude to Christus.

Martin Luther: Second Interlude to Christus.

St. John: Finale to Christus.

The Divine Tragedy, finished.

* Introitus to Christus.

*Interludes and Finale to Part Second of Tales of a Wayside Inn. Michael Angelo, first draft. Azrael (Tales of a Wayside Inn). Charlemagne (Tales of a Wayside Inn).

Emma and Eginhard (Tales of a Wayside Inn).

*Prelude, Interludes and Finale to Part Third of Tales of a Wayside Inn.

Elizabeth (Tales of a Wayside Inn). The Monk of Casal-Maggiore (Tales of a Wayside Inn).

Scanderbeg (Tales of a Wayside Inn). The Mother's Ghost (Tales of a Wayside Inn).

The Rhyme of Sir Christopher (Tales of a Wayside Inn).

Michael Angelo: Monologue, The Last Judgment; Monologue, Part Second. Palazzo Cesarini; The Oaks of Monte Luca.

*The Challenge. *Aftermath.

The Hanging of the Crane. Chaucer.

Shakespeare.

Milton.

Keats.

From the Cancioneros. Charles Sumner.

Travels by the Fireside.

Cadenabbia.

Autumn Within.

Monte Cassino.

Morituri Salutamus.

Three Friends of Mine.

The Galaxy.

The Sound of the Sea.

A Summer Day by the Sea.
The Tides.

A Nameless Grave.

The Old Bridge at Florence.

Il Ponte Vecchio di Firenze.
Michael Angelo: Vittoria Colonna;
Palazzo Belvedere; Bindo Altoviti;
In the Coliseum.

Awake! arise! the hour is late, 359.
Awake, O north-wind, 368.

A wind came up out of the sea, 199.
A youth, light-hearted and content, 613.
Barabbas is my name, 400.

Baron Castine of St. Castine, 259.

Beautiful lily, dwelling by still rivers, 287.

Beautiful valley! through whose verdant
meads, 325.

Becalmed upon the sea of Thought, 349.
Behold! a giant am I, 347.

Bell! thou soundest merrily, 611.
Beside the ungathered rice he lay, 20.
Between the dark and the daylight, 201.

Beware! the Israelite of old, who tore, 23.
Black are the moors before Kazan, 639.
Black shadows fall, 184.

188.

All the old gods are dead, 226.

Am I a king, that I should call my own, 343.
A mill-stone and the human heart are driven
ever round, 616.

A mist was driving down the British Channel,
188.

Among the many lives that I have known, 319.
An angel with a radiant face, 629.
And King Olaf heard the cry, 219.

And now, behold! as at the approach of morn-
ing, 633.

And thou, O River of To-morrow, flowing, 321.
And when the kings were in the field,

squadrons in array, 595.

And whither goest thou, gentle sigh, 621.
Annie of Tharaw, my true love of old, 614.
An old man in a lodge within a park, 315.
Arise, O righteous Lord, 520.

their

As a fond mother, when the day is o'er, 318.
As a pale phantom with a lamp, 352.
A soldier of the Union mustered out, 317.

As one who long hath fled with panting breath,
351.

As one who, walking in the twilight gloom,

99.

As the birds come in the Spring, 348.
As the dim twilight shrouds, 648.
As treasures that men seek, 587.
As unto the bow the cord is, 135.

At anchor in Hampton Roads we lay, 202.
At Atri, in Abruzzo, a small town, 245.
At Drontheim, Olaf the King, 227.

At La Chaudeau, -'t is long since then, 631.
At Stralsund, by the Baltic Sea, 252.
At the foot of the mountain height, 623.
A vision as of crowded city streets, 315.

Bright Sun! that, flaming through the mid-day

sky, 652.

Build me straight, O worthy Master, 99.
Burn, O evening hearth, and waken, 288.
But yesterday these few and hoary leaves, 652.
By his evening fire the artist, 110.
By the shore of Gitche Gumee, 162.
By yon still river, where the wave, 648.

Can it be the sun descending, 139.
Centuries old are the mountains, 304.

Christ to the young man said: Yet one thing
more, 113.

Clear fount of light! my native land on high, 593.
Clear honor of the liquid element, 652.

Cold, cold is the north wind and rude is the

blast, 645.

Come from thy caverns dark and deep, 305.
Come, my beloved, 367.

Come, O Death, so silent flying, 597.
Come, old friend! sit down and listen, 67.
Come to me, O ye children, 200.

Dark is the morning with mist; in the narrow
mouth of the harbor, 345.

Dead he lay among his books, 342.
Dear child! how radiant on thy mother's knee,

60.

Don Nuno, Count of Lara, 594.

Dost thou see on the rampart's height, 341.
Dowered with all celestial gifts, 298.

Down from yon distant mountain height, 639.
Downward through the evening twilight, 119,

Each heart has its haunted chamber, 294.
Even as the Blessed, at the final summons, 634.
Evermore a sound shall be, 303.

Every flutter of the wing, 302.
Eyes so tristful, eyes so tristful, 597.

Far and wide among the nations, 155.
Filled is Life's goblet to the brim, 17.
Flooded by rain and snow, 304.

Flow on, sweet river! like his verse, 357.
Forms of saints and kings are standing, 615.
For thee was a house built, 618.

Forth from the curtain of clouds, from the tent
of purple and scarlet, 182.

Forth rolled the Rhine-stream strong and
deep, 653.

Forth upon the Gitche Gumee, 130.

Four by the clock! and yet not day, 354.
Four limpid lakes, four Naiades, 351.
From the outskirts of the town, 296.
From the river's plashy bank, 648.

From this high portal, where upsprings, 630.
Full of wrath was Hiawatha, 151.

Gaddi mi fece il Ponte Vecchio sono, 318.
Garlands upon his grave,
324.

Gentle Spring! in sunshine clad, 621.
Gently swaying to and fro, 302.

Give me of your bark, O Birch-tree, 128.
Gloomy and dark art thou, O chief of the
mighty Omahas, 64.

Glove of black in white hand bare, 597.
God sent his messenger the rain, 462.
God sent his Singers upon earth, 112.
Good night! good night, beloved, 42.
Guarding the mountains around, 305.

Hadst thou stayed, I must have fled, 257.
Half of my life is gone, and I have let, 68.
Hark, hark, 621.

Haste and hide thee, 303.

Hast thou seen that lordly castle, 611.
Have I dreamed ? or was it real, 186.
Have you read in the Talmud of old, 200.
He is dead, the beautiful youth, 291.
He is gone to the desert land! 638.
Hence away, begone, begone, 655.
Here in a little rustic hermitage, 322.

Here lies the gentle humorist, who died, 318.
Here rest the weary oar!-soft airs, 647.
High on their turreted cliffs, 304.
Honor be to Mudjekeewis! 116.
How beautiful is the rain, 59.

How beautiful it was, that one bright day, 289.
How cold are thy baths, Apollo! 344.

How I started up in the night, in the night, 617.
How many lives, made beautiful and sweet,

291.

If perhaps these rhymes of mine should sound
not well in strangers' ears, 616.

If thou art sleeping, maiden, 52, 637.

I, Gonzalo de Berceo, in the gentle summer-tide,
653.

I have a vague remembrance, 296.

I have read, in some old, marvelous tale, 6.

I hear along our street, 628.

I heard a brooklet gushing, 610.

I heard a voice, that cried, 111.

I heard the bells on Christmas Day, 289.

I heard the trailing garments of the Night, 2.
I know a maiden fair to see, 611.

I lay upon the headland-height, and listened,
287.

I leave you, ye cold mountain chains, 630.

I lift mine eyes, and all the windows blaze, 293.
I like that ancient Saxon phrase, which calls,
16.

In Attica thy birthplace should have been, 314
In broad daylight, and at noon, 191.
In dark fens of the Dismal Swamp, 21.
In his chamber, weak and dying, 58.
In his lodge beside a river, 160.
In Mather's Magnalia Christi, 187.
In Ocean's wide domains, 22.

In St. Luke's Gospel we are told, 346.
Intelligence and courtesy not always are com-
bined, 616.

In that building long and low, 195.
In that desolate land and lone, 336.
In that province of our France, 655.
In the ancient town of Bruges, 54.
In the convent of Drontheim, 235.
In the hamlet desolate, 656.

In the heroic days when Ferdinand, 236.

In the long, sleepless watches of the night, 323.
In the market-place of Bruges stands the belfry
old and brown, 54.

In the old churchyard of his native town, 348.
In the Old Colony days, in Plymouth the land
of the Pilgrims, 165.

In the valley of the Pegnitz, where across
broad meadow-lands, 57.

In the Valley of the Vire, 192.

In the village churchyard she lies, 189.
In the workshop of Hephæstus, 298.
In those days said Hiawatha, 145.
In those days the Evil Spirits, 147.
Into the city of Kambalu, 247.

Into the darkness and the hush of night, 348.
Into the open air John Alden, perplexed and
bewildered, 171.

Into the Silent Land, 612.

I

pace the sounding sea-beach and behold, 315.
I said unto myself, if I were dead, 317.

I sat by my window one night, 650.

I saw,

as in a dream sublime, 62.

I saw the long line of the vacant shore, 317.
I see amid the fields of Ayr, 344.

I shot an arrow into the air, 68.

Is it so far from thee, 342.

I sleep, but my heart awaketh, 366.

I stand again on the familiar shore, 314.

I stand beneath the tree, whose branches shade

321.

I stood on the bridge at midnight, 63.