THE MODERN BOOK OF AMERICAN VERSE 375 She swings them down the starry sward Till all of Heaven wakes. Oh! Truly she's no common girl She wins eternal stakes! Magic Turn apple blooms to silver, But when my Amaryllis smiles, Her Midas touch transmutes the world THE END John INDEX OF FIRST LINES A A baby lying on his mother's breast, 187 Across the fields of yesterday, 322 Across the narrow beach we flit, 185 A flying word from here and there, 274 Afoot and light-hearted, I take to the open road, 123 A life on the ocean wave, 101 A little while (my life is almost set!), 177 All afternoon the passion of heaven spent, 348 All hail! thou noble land, 10 "All quiet along_the_Potomac,” they say, 163 All the men of Harbury go down to the sea in ships, 302 Along the shore the slimy brine-pits yawn, 155 Aloof upon the day's immeasured dome, 276 Alter? When the hills do, 173 Amid the chapel's chequered gloom, 249 Amid the fairest things that grow, 366 Among the thousand, thousand spheres that roll, 188 An old man bending, I come, among new faces, 127 A path across a meadow fair and sweet, 153 A raven sat upon a tree, 282 As a boy old bachelors and old maids, 269 As a fond mother, when the day is o'er, 66 As a twig trembles, which a bird, 105 As I came down from Lebanon, 254 As in the midst of battle there is room, 259 As I ponder'd in silence, 115 As I wandered over the city through the night, 349 A song of hate is a song of Hell, 253 As through the Void we went I heard his plumes, 221 377 At midnight, in his guarded tent, 17 A weapon that comes down as still, 14 B Bathsheba came out to the sun, 248 Beautiful, tragical faces, 335 Beauty calls and gives no warning, 295 Beauty crowds me till I die, 174 Beauty will not let me rest, 347 Because I had loved so deeply, 280 Be composed-be at ease with me-I am Walt Whitman, lib- Before St. Francis' burg I wait, 271 Behold, the grave of a wicked man, 277 Be in me as the eternal moods, 335 Between the sunken sun and the new moon, 176 Blue gulf all around us, 145 Booth led boldly with his big bass drum, 315 Bowed by the weight of centuries he leans, 231 By the flow of the inland river, 164 By the rude bridge that arched the flood, 43 C Camerado, this is no book, 139 Can freckled August,-drowsing warm and blonde, 265 Carved by a mighty race whose vanished hands, 228 Close his eyes; his work is done, 149 Close his eyes with the coins; bind his chin with the shroud, 371 Come, let us plant the apple-tree, 25 Come, lovely and soothing Death, 136 Come sell your pony, cowboy, 279 Come to me, angel of the weary hearted, 98 Come, Walter Savage Landor, come this way, 179 Darest thou now, O soul, 140 D Daughter of Egypt, veil thine eyes, 152 Days of my youth, 6 Dear Mrs. Spink has had so very many, 308 Don't you remember sweet Alice, Ben Bolt, 140 Do you like marigolds, 301 Do you think, my boy, when I put my arms around you, 323 E En garde, Messieurs, too long have I endured, 252 F Fair flower, that dost so comely grow, 1 For you the white-wracked waste-yet not for me, 322 From the Desert I come to thee, 153 From what old ballad, or from what rich frame, 346 Furl that Banner, for 'tis weary, 195 G Giuseppe, da barber, ees greata for "mash," 278 Give all to love, 42 Give me hunger, 309 Give me the pay I have served for, 129 Give me the scorn of the stars and a peak defiant, 289 |