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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