books and works on political and social science. Eros, and Other Poems" was privately printed in 1880.

WOOLSON, Constance Fenimore, novelist, b. Claremont, N. H., 1840; d. Venice, Italy, 1894. A grand-niece of James Fenimore Cooper; educated at Cleveland, O., and at a French school in New York City. From 1873 to 1879 she lived chiefly in Florida. The last years of her life were passed in Italy. In 1870 Harper's she began to contribute stories to Monthly," and most of her prose and verse appeared in that magazine. Author of The Old Stone House," 1873; Castle Nowhere," Lake-Country Sketches," 1875; Anne," 1882; "East Angels," 1886; "Jupiter Lights," 1889; "The Front Yard, and Other Italian ""Horace Chase," 1894. No woman Stories; of rarer personal qualities, or with more decided gifts as a novelist, figured in her own generation of American writers.

66

WRIGHT, William Bull, physician and teacher, b. New York, N. Y., 1840; d. Atlanta, Ga., 1880. His home was in Buffalo, N. Y. Dr. Wright served in the Civil War, and was professor of ancient languages in the Buffalo normal school, 1871-78. Author of "Highland

YOUNG, Edward, b. Bristol, Eng., 1818. He came to the United States in 1832. His parents settled in Trenton, N. J., where he learned the watchmaker's trade. After changes of residence he removed to Lexington, Ga., which became his permanent home. His volume, Ladye Lillian, and Other Poems," appeared in 1859.

YOUNG, William, b. Monmouth, Ill., 1847. He took a course in law, but wishing to become a dramatist, for a while went on the stage. He also made a study of the drama while living in London. His plays, "Jonquil,' 1871; "The Rogue's March," 1872; "Pendragon," verse, 1881; "The Rajah," 1883; "Ganelon," verse, 1889,- were produced in Chicago and New York City. His "Wishmaker's Town," 1885 (new ed. 1898, with a preface by T. B. Aldrich), is a series of quaint and imaginative poems on one theme. His dramatic setting of Wallace's "Ben Hur" was placed on the New York stage, 1899-1900.

A BABY lying on his mother's breast, 360.
A bale-fire kindled in the night, 676.

A ball of fire shoots through the tamarack, 326.
A beam of light, from the infinite depths of the
midnight sky, 718.

A bed of ashes and a half-burned brand, 735.
A bird in my bower, 483.

A bluebird lives in yonder tree, 552.

A brave little bird that fears not God, 654.

A breath can fan love's flame to burning, 449.
About her head or floating feet, 492.
Above them spread a stranger sky, 48.
A boy named Simon sojourned in a dale, 473.
A cheer and salute for the Admiral, and here's
to the Captain bold, 717.

A child said, What is the grass? fetching it to
me with full hands, 222.

A cloud possessed the hollow field, 508.
A cold coiled line of mottled lead, 655.
A crazy bookcase, placed before, 159.
Across the Eastern sky has glowed, 520.
Across the gardens of Life they go, 755.
Across the narrow beach we flit, 369.
Across the sombre prairie sea, 720.

A darkened hut outlined against the sky, 532.
A day and then a week passed by, 142.
A dead Soul lay in the light of day, 740.
Adieu, fair isle! I love thy bowers, 73.

Adieu, kind Life, though thou hast often been,
441.

Admiral, Admiral, sailing home, 717.

A Dresden shepherdess was one day, 768.
A dryad's home was once the tree, 170.

A flame went flitting through the wood, 633.
A fleet with flags arrayed, 125.

After all, 622.

After an interval, reading, here in the midnight,
232.

Age cannot wither her whom not gray hairs,
465.

A giant came to me when I was young, 352.
Agnes, thou child of harmony, now fled, 766.
A great, still Shape, alone, 351.

Ah, be not false, sweet Splendor! 477.

Ah, blessedness of work! the aimless mind, 565.
Ah, broken is the golden bowl! the spirit flown
forever! 147.

Ah, Clemence! when I saw thee last, 155.
Ah, Jack it was, and with him little Jill, 473.
Ah, June is here, but where is May? 346.
Ah! little flower, upspringing, azure-eyed, 495.
Ah, me! I know how like a golden flower, 692.
Ah, moment not to be purchased, 275.
A house of sleepers - I, alone unblest, 575.

Ah, what can ever be more stately and admira
ble to me than mast-hemmed Manhattan?
226.

A lady red upon the hill, 321.
Alas! that men must see, 624.

A life on the ocean wave, 177.

A line in long array where they wind betwixt
green islands, 231.

A little blind girl wandering, 243.
A little face there was, 418.

A little Maid of Astrakan, 281.

A little way below her chin, 650.

A little way to walk with you, my own, 624.

A little while (my life is almost set!), 319.
All day and all day, as I sit at my measureless
turning, 657.

All day and many days I rode, 655.

All day long roved Hiawatha, 119.

All day the waves assailed the rock, 97.

All Green Things on the earth, bless ye the
Lord! 367.

All hail! thou noble land, 18.

All in the leafy darkness, when sleep had passed
me by, 657,

All night long through the starlit air and the
stillness, 749.

All quiet along the Potomac," they say, 454.
All up and down in shadow-town, 651.

All ye who love the springtime - and who but
loves it well, 461.

Almost afraid they led her in, 377.
Aloft he guards the starry folds, 236.
Alone I walked the ocean strand, 30.

Along Ancona's hills the shimmering heat, 325.
A long, rich breadth of Holland lace, 411.
Along the country roadside, stone on stone,
707.

Along the pastoral ways I go, 612.

Along the shore the slimy brine-pits yawn, 279.
Alter? When the hills do, 321.

A man by the name of Bolus - (all 'at we 'll
ever know), 563,

A man more kindly, in his careless way, 730.
A mariner sat on the shrouds one night, 127.
A mighty fortress is our God, 192.

A mighty Hand, from an exhaustless Urn, 67.
Amid the chapel's chequered gloom, 621.
A million little diamonds, 588.

A mist was driving down the British Channel,

120.

Among the priceless gems and treasures rare,
523.

Among the thousand, thousand spears that roll,
365.

Ancient of days, Who sittest, throned in glory,
468.

And do our loves all perish with our frames? 21.
And if he should come again, 705.

And, lo! leading a blessed host comes one, 660.
And oh, to think the sun can shine, 372.
"And this is freedom!" cried the serf; "At
last," 524.

And this is the way the baby woke, 560.

And thou art gone, most loved, most honored
friend! 18.

And Thou! whom earth still holds, and will not
yield, 243.

"And you, Sir Poet, shall you make, I pray,"
701.

An English lad, who, reading in a book, 612.
An heritage of hopes and fears, 710.
A nightingale once lost his voice, 752,

A night mysterious, tender, quiet, deep, 663.
A noisette on my garden path, 690.
Announced by all the trumpets of the sky, 93.
An old man in a lodge within a park, 124.
Anonymous -nor needs a name, 489.
Another guest that winter night, 138.
A nymph there was in Arcadie, 767.
A pale Italian peasant, 551.

A path across a meadow fair and sweet, 277.
A peasant stood before a king and said, 266.
A pilgrim am I, on my way, 298.

A pitcher of mignonette, 597.

A poet's soul has sung its way to God, 329.
A poet writ a song of May, 645.

A public haunt they found her in, 608.
A purple cloud hangs half-way down, 419.
A raven sat upon a tree, 742.

Are there favoring ladies above thee? 666.
Arise, O soul, and gird thee up anew, 630.
A rose's crimson stain, 607.

Around this lovely valley rise, 294.

Art thou some winged Sprite, that, fluttering
round, 497.

Art thou the same, thou sobbing winter wind?
678.

As a bell in a chime, 550.

As a fond mother, when the day is o'er, 124.
As a twig trembles, which a bird, 204.
As by the instrument she took her place, 330.
A scent of guava-blossoms and the smell, 330.
As doth his heart who travels far from home,
298.

As dyed in blood the streaming vines appear, 400.
As flame streams upward, so my longing
thought, 544.

As I came down from Lebanon, 658.

As I came down Mount Tamalpais, 635.

A sight in camp in the daybreak gray and dim,
231.

A silver birch-tree like a sacred maid, 410.
A simple-hearted child was He, 669.

As I sit on a log here in the woods among the
clean-faced beeches, 620.

743.

As I was strolling down a woodland way,
A soldier of the Cromwell stamp, 380.
As one advances up the slow ascent, 724.
As one by one the singers of our land, 684.
As one who follows a departing friend, 259.
As one who held herself a part, 138.

A song lay silent in my pen, 767.

A song! What songs have died, 253.
As on the gauzy wings of fancy flying, 162.
As some mysterious wanderer of the skies, 634.
As the insect from the rock, 415.
As the transatlantic tourists, 472.
As the wind at play with a spark, 358.
As through the Void we went I heard his
plumes, 497.

As to a bird's song she were listening, 597.
As we the withered ferns, 728.

At anchor in Hampton Roads we lay, 123.
"At dawn, "he said, “I bid them all farewell,"

455.

At Eutaw Springs the valiant died, 3.

A throat of thunder, a tameless heart, 613.
A thousand silent years ago, 220.

At midnight, in his guarded tent, 36.
At midnight, in the month of June, 146.
At Shelley's birth, 489.

At table yonder sits the man we seek, 617.
At the king's gate the subtle noon, 324.
Autumn was cold in Plymouth town, 553.
A viewless thing is the wind, 646.
Awake! Awake! 506.

Awake, ye forms of verse divine! 46.
A weapon that comes down as still, 34.

A week ago to-day, when red-haired Sally, 291.
A whisper on the heath I hear, 763.
A whisper woke the air, 170.

A white rose had a sorrow, 571.
Ay, Dwainie! - My Dwainie! 563.
A year ago how often did I meet, 326.

Ay, not at home, then, didst thou say? 376.
A youth in apparel that glittered, 734.
Ay, tear her tattered ensign down! 153.
Ay, this is freedom!-these pure skies, 59.
Ay! Unto thee belong, 347.

Azaleas whitest of white! 349.

-

Backward, turn backward, O time, in your
flight, 329.

Bathsheba came out to the sun, 611.

Battles nor songs can from oblivion save, 610.
Beautiful! Sir, you may say so. Thar is n't
her match in the country, 403.

Before Him weltered like a shoreless sea, 387.
Behind him lay the gray Azores, 426.
Behind the hilltop drops the sun, 516.
Behold a hag whom Life denies a kiss, 710.
"Behold another singer!" Criton said, 348.
Behold, the grave of a wicked man, 734.
Behold the portal: open wide it stands, 564.
"Believe in me," the Prophet cried, 467.
Bend low, O dusky Night, 355.
Beneath the burning brazen sky, 655.
Beneath the Memnonian shadows of Memphis,
it rose from the slime, 413.

Beneath the midnight moon of May, 371.
Beneath thy spell, O radiant summer sea, 636.
Beside her ashen hearth she sate her down, 662.
Beside that tent and under guard, 670.
Beside the landsman knelt a dame, 526.
Between the dark and the daylight, 122.
Between the falling leaf and rose-bud's breath,
377.

Between the mountains and the sea, 447.