A blush as of roses, 392.

A boy drove into the city, his wagon loaded down,
209.

A cheer and salute for the Admiral, and here's to
the Captain bold, 637.

A cliff-locked port and a bluff sea wall, 319.

A cloud possessed the hollow field, 491.

A cycle was closed and rounded, 196.

A flash of light across the night, 517.

A fleet with flags arrayed, 110.

A gallant foeman in the fight, 524.

A grand attempt some Amazonian Dames, 85.
A granite cliff on either shore, 593.

A hundred thousand Northmen, 419.
A midnight cry appalls the gloom, 334.
A moonless night - a friendly one, 498.
A pillar of fire by night, 513.

A score of years had come and gone, 74.

A song unto Liberty's brave Buccaneer, 222.
A story of Ponce de Leon, 21.

A summer Sunday morning, 424.

A transient city, marvellously fair, 649.

A voice went over the waters, 608.

A Yankee ship and a Yankee crew, 327.
Abraham Lincoln, the Dear President, 539.
Across the Stony Mountains, o'er the desert's
drouth and sand, 372.

After the eyes that looked, the lips that spake, 497.
Again Columbia's stripes, unfurl'd, 302.
Again the summer-fevered skies, 503.

Ah, you mistake me, comrades, to think that my
heart is steel, 200.

All alone on the hillside, 585.

All day long the guns at the forts, 475.

All day the great guns barked and roared, 213.
All hail! Unfurl the Stripes and Stars, 403.
All night upon the guarded hill, 390.

"All quiet along the Potomac," they say, 433.
All summer long the people knelt, 590.
Aloft upon an old basaltic crag, 379.

Along a river-side, I know not where, 450.
America! dear brother land, 614.
America, my own, 659.

America! thou fractious nation, 138.

An American frigate from Baltimore came, 224.
An empire to be lost or won," 342.

An eye with the piercing eagle's fire, 560.

And now," said the Governor, gazing abroad on
the piled-up store, 60.

And they have thrust our shattered dead away
in foreign graves, 612.

Are these the honors they reserve for me, 17.
"Are you ready, O Virginia," 627.

Arms reversed and banners craped, 511.
Arnold! the name as heretofore, 238.

As billows upon billows roll, 524.

As hang two mighty thunderclouds, 361.

As men who fight for home and child and wife, 198.

As near beauteous Boston lying, 137.

As to kidnap the Congress has long been my aim,
205.

As vonce I valked by a dismal svamp, 401.
At anchor in Hampton Roads we lay, 464.
At Eutaw Springs the valiant died, 255.

At length 't is done, the glorious conflict's done,
118.

At the door of his hut sat Massasoit, 60.

Avast, honest Jack! now, before you get mellow,
303.

Awake! arise, ye men of might, 363.

Awake! awake! my gallant friends, 339.

Ay! drop the treacherous mask! throw by, 476.
Ay, let it rest! And give us peace, 607.
Ay, shout and rave, thou cruel sea, 380.
Ay, tear her tattered ensign down, 351.
Aye, lads, aye, we fought 'em, 618.

Back from the trebly crimsoned field, 435.

Be then your counsels, as your subject, great, 270.
Bear him, comrades, to his grave, 389.
Before our eyes a pageant rolled, 578.

Before the living bronze Saint-Gaudens made, 646.
Behind him lay the gray Azores, 14.

Behold her Seven Hills loom white, 658.

Behold, we have gathered together our battle-
ships, near and afar, 620.

Beneath our consecrated elm, 168.
Beneath the blistering tropical sun, 629.
Beside that tent and under guard, 586.
Beside the lone river, 581.

Blackened and bleeding, helpless, panting, prone,
569.

Bob Anderson, my beau, Bob, when we were first
aquent, 403.

Born, nurtured, wedded, prized, within the pale,
349.

Boy Brittan― only a lad - a fair-haired boy -
sixteen, 455.

Bright on the banners of lily and rose, 574.

Bring cypress, rosemary and rue, 658.

Bring the good old bugle, boys, we'll sing another
song, 513.

Britannia's gallant streamers, 296.

Britons grown big with pride, 173.
Bury the Dragon's Teeth, 508.

By Cavité on the bay, 619.

By Chickamauga's crooked stream the martial
trumpets blew, 501.

By the beard of the Prophet the Bashaw swore,
281.

By the flow of the inland river, 563.

By the rude bridge that arched the flood, 351.

Cæsar, afloat with his fortunes, 462.

Call Martha Corey, 92.

Calm as that second summer which precedes, 507.

Calm martyr of a noble cause, 545.
Calmly beside her tropic strand, 515.
Came the morning of that day, 404.
Chained by stern duty to the rock of state, 537.
Champion of those who groan beneath, 385.
Cheer up, my young men all, 122.

"Chuff! chuff! chuff!" An' a mountain-bluff, 652.
Close his eyes; his work is done, 442.

Cold, cold is the north wind and rude is the blast,
109.

-

Columbia, appear! To thy mountains ascend,
305.

Columbia, Columbia, to glory arise, 180.

Columbus looked; and still around them spread,
273.

Come, all ye bold Americans, to you the truth I
tell, 257.

Come all ye lads who know no fear, 226.
Come all ye sons of Brittany, 112.

Come all ye Yankee sailors, with swords and pikes
advance, 280.

Come all you brave Americans, 237.

Come all you brave soldiers, both valiant and free,
179.

Come, all you sons of Liberty, that to the seas
belong, 296.

Come, brothers! rally for the right, 413.

Come, cheer up, my lads, like a true British band,
130.

Come, come fill up your glasses, 132.

Come, each death-doing dog who dares venture his
neck, 121.

Come, fill the beaker, while we chaunt a pean of
old days, 119.

Come, Freemen of the land, 509.

Come, gentlemen Tories, firm, loyal, and true, 229.
Come let us rejoice, 245.

Come, listen all unto my song, 565.
Come listen and I'll tell you, 221.

Come listen, good neighbors of every degree, 131.
Come listen to the Story of brave Lathrop and his
Men, 82.

Come muster, my lads, your mechanical tools, 270.
Come, rouse up, ye bold-hearted Whigs of Ken-
tucky, 353.

Come sheathe your swords! my gallant boys, 239.
Come, stack arms, men! Pile on the rails, 483.
Come swallow your bumpers, ye Tories, and roar,
143.

Come unto me, ye heroes, 202.

Come, ye lads, who wish to shine, 287.
Comes a cry from Cuban water, 609.
Compassionate eyes had our brave John Brown,
397.

Concentred here th' united wisdom shines, 269.
Content within his wigwam warm, 73.

Cornwallis led a country dance, 256.
"Cut the cables!" the order read, 622.

Dark as the clouds of even, 500.

Dawn of a pleasant morning in May, 518.

Dawn peered through the pines as we dashed at
the ford, 488.

Day of glory! Welcome day, 179.
Daybreak upon the hills, 547.

Dead! Is it possible? He, the bold rider, 582.

Death, why so cruel? What! no other way, 45.

Delusions of the days that once have been, 88.
Did you hear of the fight at Corinth, 458.
Do you know how the people of all the land, 49.
Do you know of the dreary land, 468.
Down in the bleak December bay, 59.
Down Loudon Lanes, with swinging reins, 482.
Down the Little Big Horn, 580.

Dreary and brown the night comes down, 10.

Ebbed and flowed the muddy Pei-Ho by the gulf
of Pechili, 380.

Eight volunteers! on an errand of death, 626.
Eighty and nine with their captain, 438.

El Emplazado, the Summoned, the Doomed One,
613.

Ere five score years have run their tedious rounds,
125.

Ere Murfreesboro's thunders rent the air, 459.

Fair were our visions! Oh, they were as grand,
546.

Fallen? How fallen? States and empires fall, 376.
Fallen with autumn's fallen leaf, 590.
Famine once we had, 69.

Far spread, below, 3.

Farewell! for now a stormy morn and dark, 650.
Farewell, Peace! another crisis, 287.

Farragut, Farragut, 528.

Father and I went down to camp, 159.
First in the fight, and first in the arms, 454.
Five fearless knights of the first renown, 34.
Flawless his heart and tempered to the core, 128.
"Fly to the mountain! Fly," 601.

For him who sought his country's good, 280.
For sixty days and upwards, 499.

Foreboding sudden of untoward change, 599.
"Forgive them, for they know not what they do,"
538.

Four-and-eighty years are o'er me; great-grand.
children sit before me, 211.

Four gallant ships from England came, 309.
Four times the sun has risen and set; and now on
the fifth day, 115.

Four young men, of a Monday morn, 155.
Francisco Coronado rode forth with all his train,
31.

Free are the Muses, and where freedom is, 641.
Freedom called them up they rose, 606.
Fresh palms for the Old Dominion, 395.
From a junto that labor for absolute power, 176.
From dawn to dark they stood, 441.
From dusk till dawn the livelong night, 191.
From France, desponding and betray'd, 312.
From Halifax station a bully there came, 289.
From keel to fighting top, I love, 618.
From Lewis, Monsieur Gérard came, 214.
From out my deep, wide-bosomed West, 587.
From out of the North-land his leaguer he led, 199.
From Santiago, spurning the morrow, 635.
From the commandant's quarters on Westchester
height, 231.

From the laurel's fairest bough, 307.

From the Rio Grande's waters to the icy lakes of
Maine, 364.

From this hundred-terraced height, 573.
From Yorktown on the fourth of May, 436.
Furl that Banner, for 't is weary, 547.

691

'Gallants attend, and hear a friend, 208.
Gaunt in the midst of the prairie, 569.
Gentle and generous, brave-hearted, kind, 650.
Gift from the cold and silent Past, 4.
Giles Corey was a Wizzard strong, 96.

"Give me but two brigades," said Hooker, frown-
ing at fortified Lookout, 505.

Give me white paper, 18.

Glistering high in the midnight sky the starry
rockets soar, 617.

Glorious the day when in arms at Assunpink, 189.
"Go, bring the captive, he shall die," 26.

God is shaping the great future of the Islands of
the Sea, 641.

God makes a path, provides a guide, 72.

God send us peace, and keep red strife away, 447.
God wills no man a slave. The man most meek,
274.

Gone down in the flood, and gone out in the flame,
468.

Good Junipero, the Padre, 343.

Goody Bull and her daughter together fell out, 130.
Gray swept the angry waves, 466.

Great Sassacus fled from the eastern shores, 70.
Greece was; Greece is no more, 602.
Green be the turf above thee, 348.

Grown sick of war, and war's alarms, 261.
Guvener B. is a sensible man, 369.

Hail! Columbia, happy land, 277.
Hail, Freedom! thy bright crest, 596.

Hail, great Apollo! guide my feeble pen, 111.
Hail, happy Britain, Freedom's blest retreat, 144.
Hail sons of generous valor, 326.

Hail to Hobson! Hail to Hobson! hail to all the
valiant set, 626.

Hail to thee, gallant foe, 638.

Hard aport! Now close to shore sail, 51.
Hark! do I hear again the roar, 18.

Hark! hark! down the century's long reaching
slope, 592.

Hark! I hear the tramp of thousands, 442.

Hark! 't is Freedom that calls, come, patriots,
awake, 157.

Hark! 't is the voice of the mountain, 254.
"Has the Marquis La Fayette," 240.

Have you heard the story that gossips tell, 493.
"He chases shadows," sneered the British tars, 19.
He took a thousand islands and he did n't lose a
man, 620.

Hear through the morning drums and trumpets
sounding, 325.

Heard ye how the bold McClellan, 434.
Heard ye that thrilling word, 439.
Hearken the stirring story, 27.

Here comes the Marshal, 76.

Here halt we our march, and pitch our tent, 157.
Here, in my rude log cabin, 323.

Here the oceans twain have waited, 651.
"Here we stan' on the Constitution, by thunder,"
386.

Here's the spot. Look around you. Above on the
height, 232.

Highlands of Hudson! ye saw them pass, 230.
His bark, 7.

His echoing axe the settler swung, 329.
His policy," do you say, 559.

His soul to God! on a battle-psalm, 457.
His triumphs of a moment done, 260.
His work is done, his toil is o'er, 650.
"Ho, Rose!" quoth the stout Miles Standish, 58.
Ho, woodsmen of the mountain-side, 411.
Hobson went towards death and hell, 627.
"Home, home where's my baby's home," 73.
Hooker's across! Hooker's across, 483.
How glows each patriot bosom that boasts a
Yankee heart, 293.

-

How history repeats itself, 519.
How long, O sister, how long, 588.

How sad the note of that funereal drum, 347.
How stands the glass around, 121.

How sweetly on the wood-girt town, 105.
Huge and alert, irascible yet strong, 649.
Huzza for our liberty, boys, 286.

Huzza, my Jo Bunkers! no taxes we'll pay, 269.

I am a wandering, bitter shade, 146.

I gazed, and lo! Afar and near, 454.

I give my soldier boy a blade, 413.

I hear again the tread of war go thundering through
the land, 456.

I lay in my tent at mid-day, 440.

I lift these hands with iron fetters banded, 561.

I never have got the bearings quite, 378.

I often have been told, 288.

I pause not now to speak of Raleigh's dreams, 38.

I read last night of the Grand Review, 548.

I remember it well: 't was a morn dull and gray,
248.

Iberian! palter no more! By thine hands, 612.
Ice built, ice bound, and ice bounded, 567.
I'd weave a wreath for those who fought, 529.
If we dreamed that we loved Her aforetime, 't was
the ghost of a dream; for I vow, 657.
I'll tell you what I heard that day, 420.
Illustrious monarch of Iberia's soil, 9.
I'm a grandchild of the gods, 53.

In a chariot of light from the regions of day, 141.
In a stately hall at Brentford, when the English
June was green, 43.

In battle-line of sombre gray, 621.

In Cherbourg Roads the pirate lay, 525.

In Hampton Roads, the airs of March were bland,
463.

In Paco town and in Paco tower, 644.

In revel and carousing, 346.

In seventeen hundred and seventy-five, 171.

In spite of Rice, in spite of Wheat, 140.

In that desolate land and lone, 583.

In that soft mid-land where the breezes bear, 177.

In the gloomy ocean bed, 602.

In the stagnant pride of an outworn race, 633.

In the tides of the warm south wind it lay, 25.

In their ragged regimentals, 206.

Into the thick of the fight he went, pallid, and sick,
and wan, 631.

Into the town of Conemaugh, 599.

Is it naught? Is it naught, 607.

Is it the wind, the many-tongued, the weird, 496.

Is this the price of beauty! Fairest, thou, 594.
Isle of a summer sea, 608.

It cannot be that men who are the seed, 572.

It don't seem hardly right, John, 430.
It fell upon us like a crushing woe, 416.

It is done, 481.

It is no idle fabulous tale, nor is it fayned newes,
40.

It is not the fear of death, 238.
It was a noble Roman, 403.

It was Captain Pierce of the Lion who strode the
streets of London, 68.

It was early Sunday morning, in the year of sixty-
four, 526.

It was less than two thousand we numbered, 511.
It was on the seventeenth, by break of day, 167.
It was Private Blair, of the regulars, before dread
El Caney, 631.

It was that fierce contested field when Chicka-
mauga lay, 502.

It was the schooner Hesperus, 351.

It wound through strange scarred hills, down
cañons lone, 346.

John Brown died on the scaffold for the slave,
397.

John Brown in Kansas settled, like a steadfast
Yankee farmer, 393.

John Brown of Ossawatomie spake on his dying
day, 396.

John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave,
397.

John Bull, Esquire, my jo John, 432.
John Filson was a pedagogue, 331.

Joy in rebel Plymouth town, in the spring of sixty-
four, 535.

July the twenty-second day, 242.

Just as the hour was darkest, 472.

Just as the spring came laughing through the
strife, 482.

Just God! and these are they, 385.

Just in the gray of the dawn, as the mists uprose
from the meadows, 63.

Kind Heaven, assist the trembling muse, 217.
King Hancock sat in regal state, 246.

Land of gold! thy sisters greet thee, 346.
Land of the Wilful Gospel, thou worst and thou
best, 265.

Lay down the axe; fling by the spade, 410.

Let the Nile cloak his head in the clouds, and defy,
341.

Light up thy homes, Columbia, 371.

Lights out! And a prow turned towards the
South, 624.

Like the tribes of Israel, 514.

Listen, my children, and you shall hear, 144.

Loaded with gallant soldiers, 461.

Long lay the ocean-paths from man conceal'd, 8.
Long the tyrant of our coast, 290.

Look our ransomed shores around, 596.
Loud through the still November air, 570.

Mad Berkeley believed, with his gay cavaliers, 44.
Major-General Scott, 426.

Make room, all ye kingdoms, in history renown'd,
178.

Make room on our banner bright, 358.

March! March! March! from sunrise till it's dark,
193.

Mater á Dios, preserve us, 24.

Neglected long had been my useless lyre, 117.
Neptune and Mars in Council sate, 110.

Never mind the day we left, or the way the women
clung to us, 604.

New England's annoyances, you that would know
them, 65.

Night's diadem around thy head, 594.

No beggar she in the mighty hall where her bay-
crowned sisters wait, 655.

No Berserk thirst of blood had they, 153.
No lifeless thing of iron and stone, 593.
No more words, 410.

No! never such a draught was poured, 136.
No song of a soldier riding down, 571.

No stately column marks the hallowed place, 135.
Not as when some great Captain falls, 540.
Not in the dire, ensanguined front of war, 609.
Not midst the lightning of the stormy fight, 486.
Not where the battle red, 417.

Not with slow, funereal sound, 603.

Not yet, not yet! steady, steady," 162.
"Now for a brisk and cheerful fight," 357.
Now from their slumber waking, 629.

O Boston wives and maids, draw near and see, 144.
O broad-breasted Queen among Nations, 570.

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
537.

O God of Battles, who art still, 612.

O Land beloved, 660.

O Land, of every land the best, 548.

O little fleet! that on thy quest divine, 18.

O lonely bay of Trinity, 565.

O people-chosen! are ye not, 559.

O say, can you see, by the dawn's early light, 317.

O stealthily-creeping Merrimac, 627.

O the pride of Portsmouth water, 311.

O Thou, that sendest out the man, 262.

O Thou, whose glorious orbs on high, 653.
O'er Cambridge set the yeoman's mark, 146.
O'er Huron's wave the sun was low, 308.
O'er the high and o'er the lowly, 578.
O'er the rough main, with flowing sheet, 225.
O'er the warrior gauntlet grim, 542.
O'er the waste of waters cruising, 227.
O'er town and cottage, vale and height, 207.
Of all the rides since the birth of time, 283.
Of heroes and statesmen I'll just mention four,
224.

Of the onset, fear-inspiring, and the firing and the
pillage, 102.

Of worthy Captain Lovewell I purpose now to
sing, 106.

Oft shall the soldier think of thee, 355.

Oh, is not this a holy spot, 348.

Oh! lonely is our old green fort, 300.

Oh mother of a mighty race, 268.

Oh, Northern men - true hearts and bold, 427.
Oh, rouse you, rouse you, men at arms, 83.
Oh, slow to smite and swift to spare, 540.
Oh, the sun sets red, the moon shines white, 321.
Oh, who has not heard of the Northmen of
yore, 2.

Oh, who will follow old Ben Milam into San
Antonio, 354.

Old cradle of an infant world, 46.
Old Flood Ireson! all too long, 284.

Old Ross, Cockburn, and Cochrane too, 315.
On Calvert's plains new faction reigns, 142.
On Christmas-day in seventy-six, 188.
On December, the sixth, 188.

On every schoolhouse, ship, and staff, 611.
On primal rocks she wrote her name, 71.
On the bluff of the Little Big-Horn, 584.
Once came an exile, longing to be free, 335.
Once in a lifetime, we may see the veil, 589.
Once more the Flower of Essex is marching to the
wars, 628.

One summer morning a daring band, 487.
Oppressed and few, but freemen yet, 156.
Our band is few, but true and tried, 248.
Our camp-fires shone bright on the mountain, 512.
Our fathers' God! from out whose hand, 573.
Our mother, the pride of us all, 174.

Our sorrow sends its shadow round the earth, 589.
Our trust is now in thee, 457.

Out and fight! The clouds are breaking, 409.
Out from the harbor of Amsterdam, 50.
Out of a Northern city's bay, 467.

Out of the clover and blue-eyed grass, 550.
Out of the focal and foremost fire, 460.
Out of the North the wild news came, 154.
Over his millions Death has lawful power, 376.
Over the turret, shut in his ironclad tower, 527.

Pains the sharp sentence the heart in whose wrath
it was uttered, 539.

Palely intent, he urged his keel, 537.
Parading near Saint Peter's flood, 312.
Parent of all, omnipotent, 180.

"Past two o'clock and Cornwallis is taken," 257.
Plattsburg Bay! Plattsburg Bay, 313.
Poets may sing of their Helicon streams, 272.
"Praise ye the Lord!" The psalm to-day, 67.
Prince William, of the Brunswick race, 241.

Quoth Satan to Arnold: "My worthy good fellow,"
238.

Rapacious Spain, 24.

"Read out the names!" and Burke sat back, 611.
Rejoice, rejoice, brave patriots, rejoice, 28.
Rend America asunder, 374.
"Rifleman, shoot me a fancy shot," 432.
Ring round her! children of her glorious skies, 516.
Ring the bells, nor ring them slowly, 441.
Rio Bravo! Rio Bravo, 362.

Room for a Soldier! lay him in the clover, 419.

Round Quebec's embattled walls, 171.
Rouse, Britons! at length, 205.

693

Rouse every generous, thoughtful mind, 139.
Rudely forced to drink tea, Massachusetts, in
anger, 144.

Ruin and death held sway, 597.

Saddle! saddle! saddle, 579.

Said Burgoyne to his men, as they passed in
review, 200.

Said my landlord, white-headed Gil Gomez, 370.
Said the Sword to the Ax, 'twixt the whacks and
the hacks, 114.

Saint Patrick, slave to Milcho of the herds, 480.
St. Stephen's cloistered hall was proud, 9.
Santa Ana came storming, as a storm might come,
357.

Santa Maria, well thou tremblest down the wave,
12.

Say, darkeys, hab you seen de massa, 522.
Seize, O seize the sounding lyre, 309.
Shall we send back the Johnnies their bunting, 654.
She has gone, she has left us in passion and
pride, 400.

-

She has gone to the bottom! the wrath of the tide,
527.

She is touching the cycle, her tender tread, 603.
Shoe the steed with silver, 521.

Shoot down the rebels -men who dare, 643.
Sho-shó-ne Sa-cá-ga-we-a - captive and wife was
she, 340.

"Silent upon a peak in Darien," 651.

Since you all will have singing, and won't be said
nay, 150.

Sing, O goddess, the wrath, the ontamable dander
of Keitt, 391.

Single-handed, and surrounded by Lecompton's
black brigade, 398.

Sir George Prevost, with all his host, 314.
Slowly the mists o'er the meadow were creeping,
147.

Smile, Massachusetts, smile, 172.

So fallen! so lost! the light withdrawn, 388.
So that soldierly legend is still on its journey, 437.
So, they will have it, 408.

Soe, Mistress Anne, faire neighboure myne, 89.
Some names there are of telling sound, 466.
Sons of New England, in the fray, 480.

Sons of valor, taste the glories, 176.
Souls of the patriot dead, 388.

Southrons, hear your country call you, 411.
Southward with fleet of ice, 34.

Spain drew us proudly from the womb of night,
640.

Speak and tell us, our Ximena, looking northward
far away, 366.

"Speak! speak! thou fearful guest," 6.
Spruce Macaronis, and pretty to see, 183.
Squeak the fife, and beat the drum, 179.
"Stack Arms!" I've gladly heard the cry, 545.
Stand! the ground's your own, my braves, 161.
"Stand to your guns, men!" Morris cried, 464.
Still and dark along the sea, 509.
Still shall the tyrant scourge of Gaul, 114.
Streets of the roaring town, 643.
Such darkness as when Jesus died, 657.
Sullen and dark, in the September day, 586.