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INDEX OF FIRST LINES
441
Before our trenches at Cambrai | 310 |
Beneath fair Magdalen's storied towers | 128 |
Blossoms as old as May I scatter here | 251 |
Blow out, you bugles, over the rich Dead! | 367 |
Broken, bewildered by the long retreat | 206 |
Brothers in blood! They who this wrong began | 88 |
Burn up the world, and yet the living spark | 51 |
By all the deeds to Thy dear glory due | 67 |
By all the glories of the day | 306 |
By day, by night, along the lines their dull boom rings | 304 |
Captains adventurous, from your ports of quiet | 337 |
City of stark desolation | 113 |
Come, Death, I'd have a word with thee | 155 |
Courage came to you with your boyhood's grace | 354 |
Dark, dark lay the drifters, against the red west | 319 |
Dawn on the drab North Sea!— | 338 |
Dear Lord, I hold my hand to take | 190 |
Dear! of all happy in the hour, most blest | 245 |
Dim, gradual thinning of the shapeless gloom | 266 |
Dreary lay the long road, dreary lay the town | 199 |
Ended the watches of the dark; oh hear the bugles blow— | 424 |
Endless lanes sunken in the clay | 270 |
England, the home of poetry; the hearth | 52 |
England! where the sacred flame | 43 |
Facing the guns, he jokes as well | 201 |
Farewell! the village leaning to the hill | 274 |
Farewell to Lochaber, farewell to the glen | 56 |
Far fall the day when England's realm shall see | 143 |
Far peace, than knowledge more desirable | 147 |
Far up at Glorian the wind is sighing | 300 |
Fate wafts us from the pygmies' shore | 138 |
Fool that I was! my heart was sore | 353 |
For all we have and are | 52 |
For France and liberty he set apart | 171 |
France is planting her gardens | 86 |
Franceline rose in the dawning grey | 80 |
From its blue vase the rose of evening drops | 46 |
From morn to midnight, all day through | 255 |
From out the dragging vastness of the sea | 360 |