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- by Paul Laurence Dunbar
- & Madge, ye hoyden, died. by Eugene Field
- — As often they had done before. by Hilaire Belloc
- ——O joy, and I. by John Freeman
- —”Giddup, Titine!” by Robert Service
- —0 Alma Magna Mater, deathless the living death of pride. by Delmore Schwartz
- —A cabbage patch. by Robert Service
- —And my heart is sick with memories. by Rupert Brooke
- —And then you suddenly cried, and turned away. by Rupert Brooke
- —Au risque de tomber pendant l’éternité? by Stéphane Mallarmé
- —Believe me, there are real things. by G. K. Chesterton
- —Bill, Tom and me. by Robert Service
- —Bring me a lover, and teach me how to love! by E. (Edith) Nesbit
- —Chère,—par un beau jour de septembre attiédi. by Paul Verlaine
- —Christ! in the dark! by Don Marquis
- —Come back, O Day! said he. by Sidney Lanier
- —Come, Name, come, Fame, and kiss my Sweetheart’s feet!” by Sidney Lanier
- —Dear!—in a golden warm September sky. by Paul Verlaine
- —Depart. by Robert Service
- —Do, mi, sol.—Hé! bonsoir la Lune! by Paul Verlaine
- —Don’t push us round. by Robert Service
- —Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower! by Robert Browning
- —Farewell a while! we climb where thou hast clomb! by George MacDonald
- —Forever, and a day. by Josephine Preston Peabody
- —God pity them! by Robert Service
- —Grêle, parmi l’odeur fade du réséda. by Paul Verlaine
- —He, too, is Waste. by Robert Service
- —Her curls dripped gore. by Robert Service
- —Hypocrite lecteur, —mon semblable, —mon frère! by Charles Baudelaire
- —Is dying.” by Robert Service
- —Its crown a Rose.’ by Robert Service
- —Just Peace of Mind. by Robert Service
- —Lord, sir! of none—she ran away. by Thomas Gent
- —Love is the lesson which the Lord us taught. by Edmund Spenser
- —Love mid the daffodils. by Robert Service
- —Nay, prophet-spring! but I will follow thee. by George MacDonald
- —Now he comes! Will he come? Alas! no, no. by Henry Howard
- —Nowhere, everywhere. by John Freeman
- —O damnable Design! by Robert Service
- —O God of pity and sorrow, not alone!” by E. (Edith) Nesbit
- —O how that glittering taketh me! by Robert Herrick
- —Oh, when THAT time comes, you’ll be dirty too! by Rupert Brooke
- —Old Noumenon, come true, come true! by Delmore Schwartz
- —Or I may not. by Robert Service
- —Pauvre âme, c’est cela! by Paul Verlaine
- —Philippe Deux était à la droite du Père. by Paul Verlaine
- —Poor Dick! Oh Christ, how long, how long! by Robert Service
- —Quhom I luve I dare nocht assay!’ by Anonymous
- —Slim, ’mid the foolish scent of mignonette. by Paul Verlaine
- —So lovers say. by Rupert Brooke
- —Something out of it, I think. by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
- —STUPIDITY. by Robert Service
- —Ten years or so. by Robert Service
- —That exhaustive old Lady of of Winchelsea. by Edward Lear
- —They envy Jack. by Robert Service
- —Thou wilt not hit my fancy in my age. by Henry Kirk White
- —Unto the sky. by Robert Service
- —Was anguish on the Cross in vain?” by Robert Service
- —Well, let me pray! by Robert Service
- —When shall the Autumn rose re-blossom,—when? by Paul Verlaine
- —With guts of God. by Robert Service
- ‘Adieu, adieu’ for evermore. by Alfred Lord Tennyson
- ‘And tell me, have we won this war or not?‘ by Siegfried Sassoon
- ‘And thou thyself to all eternity!’ by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
- ‘Any more, any more, any more, never more!’ by Edward Lear
- ‘At least, I know why the world goes round.’ by G. K. Chesterton
- ‘By God—I’m done for now, the dream was right . . .’ by Conrad Aiken
- ‘Dear Sir,’ I type, ‘how nice to speak to you!’ by Thomas Blackburn
- ‘Does my old friend remember me?’ by Alfred Lord Tennyson
- ‘Dout a lovah’s lane. by Paul Laurence Dunbar
- ‘Extinguishes all hope!’ by Lewis Carroll
- ‘Fall in!’ I shouted; ‘Fall in for your pay!’ by Siegfried Sassoon
- ‘Farewell! We lose ourselves in light.’ by Alfred Lord Tennyson
- ‘For Mr. and Mrs. Discobbolos!’ by Edward Lear
- ‘Fore they jine the heavenly choir. by Paul Laurence Dunbar
- ‘Gainst the glance of Salmacis! by Andrew Lang
- ‘Gat the foal of the world.’ by William Butler Yeats
- ‘Have come out to take the air!’ by Edward Lear
- ‘He shall laugh’—the prophet said.) by G. K. Chesterton
- ‘How good! how kind! and he is gone.’ by Alfred Lord Tennyson
- ‘How like you this?‘—what hath she now deservèd? by Sir Thomas Wyatt
- ‘I am your child: O parents, ye have come!’ by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
- ‘I cannot understand: I love.’ by Alfred Lord Tennyson
- ‘I could not help it, it was my hand.’” by Robert Graves
- ‘I had better go back to Dundalk!’ by Edward Lear
- ‘I love my work.’ by Robert Service
- ‘I will be sorry for their childishness.’ by Coventry Patmore
- ‘I’ve thought!’—and darkness hides my day. by Siegfried Sassoon
- ‘If Lucy should be dead!’ by William Wordsworth
- ‘In Which shall culminate the race.’ by William Ernest Henley
- ‘Ireland shall get her freedom and you still break stone.’ by William Butler Yeats
- ‘It is time to return to Dunluce.’ by Edward Lear
- ‘It’s a regular brute of a Bee!’ by Edward Lear
- ‘Kerchief’d in mists, and tearful, when— by Henry Kirk White
- ‘Little children, bless the Queen!’ by Robert Service
- ‘Lo, after nineteen hundred years, Christ still is Crucified.’ by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
- ‘Long to’ds night. by Paul Laurence Dunbar
- ‘May these two wed!’ by Robert Service
- ‘My son, my ltttle son.’” by Henry Newbolt
- ‘Nd I havin’ my opinyin uv him. by Eugene Field
