INDEX OF TITLES AND FIRST LINES

A governor it was proclaimed this time,

A house that lacks, seemingly, mistress and master,

A lantern light from deeper in the barn

A neighbor of mine in the village

A plow, I hear men say, to plow the snow

A saturated meadow,

A stranger came to the door at eve,

After Apple-Picking

Aim Was Song, The

All crying, “We will go with you, O Wind!”

All out of doors looked darkly in at him

Always the same, when on a fated night

As I went down the hill along the wall

Asking for Roses

Ax-Helve, The

Before man came to blow it right

Birches

Black Cottage, The

Blueberries

Blue-Butterfly Day

Bond and Free

Bonfire, The

BOY’S WILL, A

Brook in the City, A

Brown lived at such a lofty farm

Brown’s Descent

By June our brook’s run out of song and speed

Census-Taker, The

Christmas Trees

Code, The

Come with rain, O loud Southwester!

Cow in Apple Time, The

Death of the Hired Mall, The

Demiurge’s Laugh, The

Dream Pang, A

Dust of Snow

Encounter, An

Even the bravest that are slain

Evening in a Sugar Orchard

Exposed Nest, The

Fear, The

Fire and Ice

Flower-Gathering

For Once, Then, Something

From where I lingered in a lull of March

Generations of Men, The

Ghost House

Girl’s Garden, A

Going for Water

Good Hours

Good-by and Keep Cold

Grindstone, The

Gum-Gatherer, The

Having a wheel and four legs of its own

He is said to have been the Last Red Man

He saw her from the bottom of the stairs

Her teacher’s certainty it must be Mabel

Here come the line-gang pioneering by

Hill Wife, The

Hillside Thaw, A

Home Burial

Housekeeper, The

How countlessly they congregate

Hundred Collars, A

Hyla Brook

I came an errand one cloud-blowing evening

I didn’t make you know how glad I was

I dwell in a lonely house I know

I had for my winter evening walk—

I had withdrawn in forest, and my song

I left you in the morning,

I let myself in at the kitchen door

I slumbered with your poems on my breast

I stayed the night for shelter at a farm

I walked down alone Sunday after church

I went to turn the grass once after one

I wonder about the trees

If tired of trees I seek again mankind,

In a Vale

In Equal Sacrifice

In Neglect

In the Home Stretch

Into My Own

It is blue-butterfly day here in spring,

It was far in the sameness of the wood;

It went many years,

I’m going out to clean the pasture spring;

I’ve known ere now an interfering branch

Lancaster bore him—such a little town,

Late Walk, A

Line-Gang, The

Line-Storm Song, A

Lockless Door, The A

Love and a Question

Love has earth to which she clings

Lovers, forget your love,

Maple

Mary sat musing on the lamp-flame at the table

Meeting and Passing

Mending Wall

Misgiving

MOUNTAIN INTERVAL

Mountain, The

Mowing

My Butterfly

My long two-pointed ladder’s sticking through a tree

My November Guest

My Sorrow, when she’s here with me

Need of Being Versed in Country Things, The

Never tell me that not one star of all

NORTH OF BOSTON

Not to Keep

Nothing to say to all those marriages!

Now close the windows and hush all the fields;

Now Close the Windows

O hushed October morning mild,

October

Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers today;

“Oh, let’s go up the hill and scare ourselves,

Old Man’s Winter Night, An

On a Tree Fallen Across the Road

Once on the kind of day called “weather breeder,”

One of my wishes is that those dark trees,

One ought not to have to care

Onset, The

Others taunt me with having knelt at well-curbs

“Out, Out—”

Out through the fields and the woods

Out walking in the frozen swamp one grey day

Oven Bird, The

Pan came out of the woods one day,—

Pan with Us

Pasture, The

Patch of Old Snow, A

Paul’s Wife

Pea Brush

Place for a Third

Plowmen

Prayer in Spring, A

Putting in the Seed

Range-Finding

Reluctance

Revelation

Road Not Taken, The

Rose Pogonias

Self-Seeker, The

Servant to Servants, A

She stood against the kitchen sink, and looked

Snow

Some say the world will end in fire,

Something inspires the only cow of late

Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,

Sound of the Trees, The

Spoils of the Dead

Star in a Stone-Boat, A

Stars

Storm Fear

Telephone, The

The battle rent a cobweb diamond-strung

The buzz-saw snarled and rattled in the yard

The city had withdrawn into itself

The farmhouse lingers, though averse to square

The house had gone to bring again

The line-storm clouds fly tattered and swift,

The mountain held the town as in a shadow

The sound of the closing outside door was all

The three stood listening to a fresh access

The tree the tempest with a crash of wood

The way a crow

The well was dry beside the door,

There is a singer everyone has heard,

There overtook me and drew me in

There was never a sound beside the wood but one,

There were three in the meadow by the brook

There’s a patch of old snow in a corner

They leave us so to the way we took,

They sent him back to her. The letter came

Thine emulous fond flowers are dead, too,

This saying good-by on the edge of the dark

Thus of old the Douglas did

Time to Talk, A

To drive Paul out of any lumber camp

To E. T.

To the Thawing Wind

To think to know the country and not know

Trial by Existence, The

Tuft of Flowers, The

Two fairies it was

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

Two Witches

Valley’s Singing Day, The

Vanishing Red, The

Vantage Point, The

Waiting

We chanced in passing by that afternoon

We make ourselves a place apart

What things for dream there are when spectre-like,

What tree may not the fig be gathered from?

When a friend calls to me from the road

When I go up through the mowing field,

When I see birches bend to left and right

“When I was just as far as I could walk

When I was young, we dwelt in a vale

When the wind works against us in the dark,

Wild Grapes

“Willis, I didn’t want you here today:

Wind and Window Flower

Wood-Pile, The

You come to fetch me from my work to-night

“You ought to have seen what I saw on my way

You were forever finding some new play