| Poem Title | First Lines | Period | # Lines | # Reads |
| 1: A Request. | When close by my bed the Death Angel shall stand | | 16 | 190 |
| 2: A Reverie. | O, tomb of the past | | 32 | 189 |
| 3: An Answer. | When passing years have streaked with frost | | 12 | 221 |
| 4: As The Indian. | Within the wind, my untaught ear | | 12 | 206 |
| 5: As the Shifting Sands of the Desert. | As the shifting sands of the desert | | 33 | 204 |
| 6: Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust. | Is there a Death? The light of day | | 24 | 190 |
| 7: Battle Hymn. | Almighty Power! Who through the past | | 18 | 201 |
| 8: Christmas Chimes. | Once more the merry Christmas bells, | | 15 | 200 |
| 9: Deprive This Strange and Complex World. | Deprive this strange and complex world | | 12 | 175 |
| 10: Despair. | Ill fares the heart, when hope has fled; | | 33 | 179 |
| 11: Dying Hymn. | The hour-glass speeds its final sands, | | 12 | 177 |
| 12: Echoes from Galilee. | What means this gathering multitude, | | 120 | 186 |
| 13: Empty are the Mother's Arms. | Ah, empty are the mother's arms | | 8 | 221 |
| 14: Fame. | There is a cliff, no matter where, | | 30 | 166 |
| 15: From A Saxon Legend. | Within a vale in distant Saxony, | | 52 | 180 |
| 16: Gently Lead Me, Star Divine. | Gently lead me, Star Divine, | | 16 | 184 |
| 17: Go, And Sin No More. | When the poor, erring woman sought | | 16 | 190 |
| 18: Grandeur. | I stood at sunrise, on the topmost part | | 193 | 177 |
| 19: Hidden Sorrows. | For some the river of life would seem | | 24 | 190 |
| 20: Hope. | Hope is the shadowy essence of a wish, | | 60 | 180 |
| 21: Humanity's Stream. | I stood upon a crowded thoroughfare, | | 124 | 180 |
| 22: I Think When I Stand in the Presence of Death. | I Think When I Stand in the Presence of Death. | | 16 | 182 |
| 23: If I Have Lived Before. | If I have lived before, some evidence | | 18 | 189 |
| 24: In Deo Fides. | Almighty God! Supreme! Most High! | | 24 | 187 |
| 25: In Mortem Meditare. | As Life's receding sunset fades | | 80 | 198 |
| 26: Life's Mystery | I live, I move, I know not how, nor why, | | 4 | 202 |
| 27: Life's Undercurrent. | Within the precincts of a hospital, | | 42 | 186 |
| 28: Love's Plea. | I love thee, my darling, both now and forever, | | 12 | 188 |
| 29: Metabole. - An Apostrophe To The Moon. | O, silvery moon, fair mistress of the night, | | 444 | 186 |
| 30: Missed. | Pity the child who never feels | | 12 | 196 |
| 31: Mother. - Alpha and Omega. | Mother! Mother! | | 27 | 211 |
| 32: Nature's Child. | I love to tread the solitudes, | | 28 | 219 |
| 33: Nature's Lullaby. - A Mountain Nocturne | In forest shade my couch is made. | | 32 | 197 |
| 34: O, a Beautiful Thing Is the Flower That Fadeth! | O, a Beautiful Thing Is the Flower That Fadeth! | | 8 | 184 |
| 35: Reflections. | On the margin of a lakelet, | | 32 | 189 |
| 36: Shall Love, as the Bridal Wreath, Whither and Die? | Shall love as the bridal wreath, wither and die? | | 10 | 185 |
| 37: Shall Our Memories Live When the Sod Rolls Above Us? | Shall Our Memories Live When the Sod Rolls Above Us? | | 16 | 179 |
| 38: Smiles. | There is the warm, congenial smile, | | 32 | 199 |
| 39: Suggested by a Mountain Eagle. | I gazed at the azure-hued mantle of heaven, | | 28 | 166 |
| 40: The Darker Side. | They say that all nature is smiling and gay, | | 24 | 176 |
| 41: The Fallen Tree. | I passed along a mountain road, | | 36 | 176 |
| 42: The First Storm. | The leafless branch and meadow sere, | | 15 | 175 |
| 43: The Fragrant Perfume of the Flowers. | The fragrant perfume of the flowers, | | 12 | 175 |
| 44: The Legend of St. Regimund. | St. Regimund, e'er he became a saint, | | 134 | 175 |
| 45: The Miner. | Clink! Clink! Clink! | | 40 | 194 |
| 46: The Nations Peril. | I fear the palace of the rich, | | 40 | 179 |
| 47: The Silvery San Juan. | Wherever I wander, my spirit still dwells, | | 36 | 183 |
| 48: The Spirit of freedom is Born of the Mountains. | The spirit of freedom is born of the mountains, | | 8 | 192 |
| 49: The Suicide. | What anguish rankled 'neath that silent breast? | | 36 | 201 |
| 50: The Unknowable. | O! Sun, resplendent in the smiling morn, | | 40 | 187 |
| 51: The Valley of the San Miguel. | In the golden West, by fond Nature blest, | | 40 | 174 |
| 52: There is an Air of Majesty. | There is an air of majesty, | | 18 | 177 |
| 53: They Cannot See the Wreaths We Place. | They cannot see the wreaths we place | | 18 | 184 |
| 54: Think Not that the Heart is Devoid of Emotion. | Think not that the heart is devoid of emotion, | | 12 | 176 |
| 55: Thoughts. | I dug a grave, one smiling April day, | | 18 | 185 |
| 56: To Mother Huberta. | Mother, our greetings be to thee, | | 24 | 180 |
| 57: To the Pines. | Ye sad musicians of the wood, | | 8 | 200 |
