| The Poet To His Lyre |
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| At Night |
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| Written On The Leaf Of An Album Under Two Doves Billing |
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| Sonnet From The Portuguese Of Camoens |
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| To the Mocking-Bird |
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| Odi d'un uom che muore |
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| Ruth |
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| Yes! let us part, while yet we may |
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| Quel labbro, che le rose han colorito |
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| When steel and lodestone touch they cleave |
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