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INDEX OF FIRST LINES
Make this thing plain to us, O Lord! | 421 |
Men of my blood, you English men! | 44 |
Men of the Twenty-first | 203 |
Moon, slow rising, over the trembling sea-rim | 414 |
My leg? It's off at the knee | 195 |
My name is Darino, the poet. You have heard? Oui, Comédie Française | 230 |
My shoulders ache beneath my pack | 243 |
Near where the royal victims fell | 82 |
Never of us be said | 184 |
No Man's Land is an eerie sight | 272 |
No more old England will they see | 375 |
Not long did we lie on the torn, red field of pain | 398 |
Not the muffled drums for him | 386 |
Not with her ruined silver spires | 75 |
Now, God be thanked Who has matched us with His hour | 246 |
Now is the midnight of the nations: dark | 148 |
Now is the time of the splendour of Youth and Death | 96 |
Now slowly sinks the day-long labouring Sun | 149 |
Now spake the Emperor to all his shining battle forces | 109 |
Now to those who search the deep— | 318 |
O, a lush green English meadow—it's there that I would lie— | 298 |
Of all my dreams by night and day | 103 |
Often I think of you, Jimmy Doane | 98 |
Often, on afternoons grey and sombre | 125 |
O gracious ones, we bless your name | 315 |
O grim and iron-bastioned | 385 |
O guns, fall silent till the dead men hear | 371 |
Oh, down by Millwall Basin as I went the other day | 330 |
Oh, Grimsby is a pleasant town as any man may find | 332 |
Oh, hear! Oh, hear! | 324 |
Oh, hump your swag and leave, lads, the ships are in the bay | 67 |
Old orchard crofts of Picardy | 234 |
O living pictures of the dead | 137 |
O Mountains of Erin | 58 |
Once, in my moment of earth | 306 |
Once more the Night like some great dark drop-scene | 279 |
Only a man harrowing clods | 132 |
O noble youth that held our honour in keeping | 394 |
On this primeval strip of western land | 333 |