Winter. Sara Teasdale. Fairy Gold. Richard Le Gallienne. Dedication. Willard Huntington Wright. The Ballet. K. B. Boynton. _December_-- Dance of the Sunbeams. Bliss Carman. The Shadow. Witter Bynner. Zenia. Ezra Pound. Then and Now. Richard Burton. Song against Women. Willard Huntington Wright. Song. K. B. Boynton. Fifty Years Spent. Maxwell Struthers Burt. Of Moira Up the Glen. Edward J. O’Brien. The Last Monster. George Sterling. INDEX OF FIRST LINES PAGE Aye, down the years, behold, he rides. _Percy Adams Hutchison_ 54 Because on the branch that is tapping my pane. _Arthur Guiterman_ 7 Did you choose the journey, friend? _Ruth Sterry_ 62 Distant as a dream’s flight. _John G. Neihardt_ 17 Eternal in the brooding of the old Norwegian spruces. _Ruth Guthrie Harding_ 4 Ever as sinks the day on sea or land. _George Sterling_ 52 Face in the tomb, that lies so still. _Richard Le Gallienne_ 22 For the sake of a weathered gray city set high on a hill. _Amelia J. Burr_ 25 God meant me to be hungry. _Mildred Howells_ 8 Hark ye! Hush ye! Margot’s dead. _Ruth Comfort Mitchell_ 50 Hark you such sound as quivers? Kings will hear. _Mahlon Leonard Fisher_ 61 How an image of paint and wood. _Agnes Lee_ 12 I know a vale where I would go one day. _Bliss Carman_ 24 I saw her in a Broadway car. _Sara Teasdale_ 19 I think that I shall never see. _Joyce Kilmer_ 7 I thought I had forgotten you. _Ethel M. Hewitt_ 21 I thought my heart would break. _Charles Hanson Towne_ 22 I went to the place where my youth took birth. _Willard Huntington Wright_ 18 If I am slow forgetting. _Margaret Lee Ashley_ 3 In every line a supple beauty. _Willa Sibert Cather_ 46 It’s little that I’d care for the glories of Ireland. _Edward J. O’Brien_ 16