| Poem Title | First Lines | Period | # Lines | # Reads |
| 1: A New Madrigal To An Old Melody | As along a dark pine-bough, in slender white mystery | | 32 | 149 |
| 2: An Open Boat | O what is that whimpering there in the darkness? | | 16 | 137 |
| 3: Beethoven In Central Park | The thousand-windowed towers were all alight. | | 14 | 127 |
| 4: Cap'n Storm-Along | They are buffeting out in the bitter grey weather, | | 36 | 110 |
| 5: Compensations | Not with a flash that rends the blue | | 28 | 125 |
| 6: Copernicus | The neighbours gossiped idly at the door. | | 242 | 134 |
| 7: Cotton-Wool | Shun the brush and shun the pen, | | 41 | 100 |
| 8: Dead Man's Morrice | There came a crowder to the Mermaid Inn, | | 48 | 115 |
| 9: Dedication. To The Memory Of Sir Cecil Spring-Rice | Steadfast as any soldier of the line | | 28 | 120 |
| 10: Fashions | Fashion on fashion on fashion, | | 51 | 107 |
| 11: Fishers Of Men | Long, long ago He said, | | 24 | 111 |
| 12: Five Criticisms - I | Old Pantaloon, lean-witted, dour and rich, | | 15 | 104 |
| 13: Five Criticisms - II. | I saw the assembled artists of our day | | 16 | 115 |
| 14: Five Criticisms - III. | With half the force and thought you waste in rage | | 14 | 110 |
| 15: Five Criticisms - IV. | You with the quick sardonic eye | | 63 | 101 |
| 16: Five Criticisms - V | If this were true, England indeed were dead. | | 46 | 105 |
| 17: Galileo | My friend, my dearest friend, my own dear love, | | 815 | 125 |
| 18: Ghosts Of The New World | There are no ghosts, you say, | | 48 | 130 |
| 19: Immortal Sails | Now, in a breath, we'll burst those gates of gold, | | 14 | 204 |
| 20: Kepler | John Kepler, from the chimney corner, watched | | 446 | 103 |
| 21: Kilmeny | Dark, dark lay the drifters against the red West, | | 28 | 121 |
| 22: Lines For A Sun-Dial | With shadowy pen I write, | | 4 | 120 |
| 23: Memories Of The Pacific Coast | I know a land, I, too, | | 20 | 131 |
| 24: Michael Oaktree | Under an arch of glorious leaves I passed | | 216 | 116 |
| 25: Namesakes | But where's the brown drifter that went out alone? | | 24 | 114 |
| 26: Newton | If I saw farther, 'twas because I stood | | 686 | 107 |
| 27: Nippon | Last night, I dreamed of Nippon | | 24 | 117 |
| 28: On A Mountain Top | On this high altar, fringed with ferns | | 24 | 113 |
| 29: On The Western Front | I found a dreadful acre of the dead, | | 28 | 99 |
| 30: Peace | Give me the pulse of the tide again | | 20 | 121 |
| 31: Peace In A Palace | You were weeping in the night," said the Emperor, | | 51 | 113 |
| 32: Princeton | Here Freedom stood, by slaughtered friend and foe, | | 52 | 107 |
| 33: Republic And Motherland | Up the vast harbor with the morning sun | | 40 | 114 |
| 34: Riddles Of Merlin | As I was walking | | 24 | 136 |
| 35: Sir John Herschel Remembers | True type of all, from his own father's hand | | 504 | 106 |
| 36: Slave And Emperor | The Emperor mocked at Nazareth | | 20 | 120 |
| 37: Sunlight And Sea | Give me the sunlight and the sea | | 61 | 124 |
| 38: The Avenue Of The Allies | This is the song of the wind as it came | | 98 | 98 |
| 39: The Bell | The Temple Bell was out of tune, | | 60 | 104 |
| 40: The Big Black Trawler | The very best ship that ever I knew, | | 20 | 106 |
| 41: The Chimney-Sweeps Of Cheltenham | When hawthorn buds are creaming white, | | 64 | 101 |
| 42: The Companions | How few are they that voyage through the night | | 20 | 114 |
| 43: The Humming Birds | Green wing and ruby throat, | | 24 | 116 |
| 44: The Little Roads | The great roads are all grown over | | 24 | 100 |
| 45: The Lost Battle | It is not over yet-the fight | | 32 | 107 |
| 46: The Man Who Discovered The Use Of A Chair | The man who discovered the use of a chair, | | 51 | 104 |
| 47: The Matin-Song Of Friar Tuck | If souls could sing to heaven's high King | | 42 | 105 |
| 48: The New Duckling | I want to be new," said the duckling. | | 32 | 116 |
| 49: The Night Of The Lion | Their Day was at twelve of the night, | | 60 | 113 |
| 50: The Observatory | At noon, upon the mountain's purple height, | | 291 | 117 |
| 51: The Old Fool In The Wood | If I could whisper you all I know, | | 21 | 109 |
| 52: The Old Gentleman With The Amber Snuff-Box | The old gentleman, tapping his amber snuff-box | | 58 | 109 |
| 53: The Old Meeting House | Its quiet graves were made for peace till Gabriel blows his horn. | | 40 | 117 |
| 54: The Open Door | O Mystery of life, | | 24 | 110 |
| 55: The People's Fleet | Out of her darkened fishing-ports they go, | | 14 | 111 |
| 56: The Phantom Fleet | The sunset lingered in the pale green West: | | 140 | 114 |
| 57: The Realms Of Gold | Under the palms of San Diego | | 48 | 121 |
| 58: The Reward Of Song | Why do we make our music? | | 40 | 115 |
| 59: The Road Through Chaos | There is one road, one only, to the Light: | | 30 | 108 |
| 60: The Symphony | Wonder in happy eyes | | 16 | 100 |
| 61: The Union | You that have gathered together the sons of all races, | | 24 | 108 |
| 62: The Vindictive | How should we praise those lads of the old Vindictive | | 60 | 116 |
| 63: The War Widow | Black-veiled, black-gowned, she rides in bus and train, | | 28 | 106 |
| 64: To A Successful Man | And after all the labour and the pains, | | 21 | 120 |
| 65: Touchstone On A Bus | Last night I rode with Touchstone on a bus | | 195 | 108 |
| 66: Tycho Brake | They thought him a magician, Tycho Brahe, | | 1023 | 105 |
| 67: Victory | Before those golden altar-lights we stood, | | 98 | 97 |
| 68: Watchers Of The Sky | At noon, upon the mountain's purple height, | | 4209 | 121 |
| 69: What Grandfather Said | Your thoughts are for the poor and weak? | | 76 | 113 |
| 70: William Herschel Conducts | Was it a dream?--that crowded concert-room | | 185 | 107 |
| 71: Wireless | Now to those who search the deep, | | 30 | 118 |
