| Poem Title | First Lines | Period | # Lines | # Reads |
| 1: A Boy's Hopes. | Dear mother, dry those flowing tears, | | 24 | 153 |
| 2: A Canadian Snow-Fall. | Come to the casement, we'll watch the snow | | 30 | 153 |
| 3: A Canadian Summer Evening. | The rose-tints have faded from out of the West, | | 24 | 173 |
| 4: A Child's Treasures. | Thou art home at last, my darling one, | | 40 | 142 |
| 5: A Few Short Years From Now. | Say, art thou angry? words unkind | | 40 | 154 |
| 6: A Girl's Day Dream And Its Fulfilment. | Child of my love, why wearest thou | | 85 | 166 |
| 7: A Modern Courtship. | Why turn from me thus with such petulant pride, | | 48 | 166 |
| 8: A Plea For Our Northern Winters. | Oh, Earth, where is the mantle of pleasant emerald dye | | 36 | 135 |
| 9: A Touching Ceremony. | On a golden autumn morning, | | 48 | 160 |
| 10: A Welcome To The Month Of Mary. | Oh! gladly do we welcome thee, | | 48 | 154 |
| 11: A Worldly Death-Bed. | Hush! speak in accents soft and low, | | 64 | 148 |
| 12: Abraham's Sacrifice. | The noontide sun streamed brightly down | | 66 | 141 |
| 13: After The Ball. | Silence now reigns in the corridors wide, | | 36 | 159 |
| 14: Alain's Choice. | By the side of a silvery streamlet, | | 56 | 144 |
| 15: An Afternoon In July. | How hushed and still are earth and air, | | 40 | 132 |
| 16: An Autumn Evening At Murray Bay. | Darkly falls the autumn twilight, rustles by the crisp leaf sere, | | 28 | 137 |
| 17: Ash-Wednesday. | Glitt'ring balls and thoughtless revels | | 48 | 143 |
| 18: Autumn Winds. | Oh! Autumn winds, what means this plaintive wailing | | 56 | 175 |
| 19: Beneath The Snow. | Twas near the close of the dying year, | | 48 | 160 |
| 20: Bound For California. | With buoyant heart he left his home for that bright wond'rous land | | 32 | 130 |
| 21: Charles Vii And Joan Of Arc At Rheims. | A glorious pageant filled the church of the proud old city of Rheims, | | 40 | 134 |
| 22: Come, Tell Me Some Olden Story. | Come tell me some olden story | | 32 | 143 |
| 23: Cornelia's Jewels. | Among the haughtiest of her sex, in noble, quiet pride, | | 18 | 143 |
| 24: Died January 26Th, 1864, The Hon. James B. Clay, Of Ashlands, Kentucky, Eldest Son Of The Illustrious Henry Clay. | Another pang for Southern hearts, | 1864 | 48 | 141 |
| 25: Earth's Moments Of Gloom. | The heart hath its moments of hopeless gloom, | | 20 | 141 |
| 26: Far West Emigrant. | Mine eye is weary of the plains | | 40 | 153 |
| 27: Flirtation. | Yes, leave my side to flirt with Maude, | | 40 | 134 |
| 28: Flowers And Stars. | Beloved! thou'rt gazing with thoughtful look | | 32 | 142 |
| 29: Given And Taken. | The snow-flakes were softly falling | | 56 | 130 |
| 30: Harry (Engaged To Be Married) To Charley (Who Is Not). | To all my fond rhapsodies, Charley, | | 48 | 139 |
| 31: Harvests. | Other harvests there are than those that lie | | 54 | 143 |
| 32: Husband And Wife. | The world had chafed his spirit proud | | 42 | 149 |
| 33: In Memory Of The Late G. C. Of Montreal. | The earth was flooded in the amber haze | | 36 | 142 |
| 34: Jacques Cartier'S First Visit To Mount Royal. | He stood on the wood-crowned summit | | 54 | 221 |
| 35: Looking Forward. | How busily those little fingers soft | | 64 | 139 |
| 36: Mater Christianorum, Ora Pro Nobis! | In the hour of grief and sorrow, | | 48 | 142 |
| 37: Maude. - A Ballad Of The Olden Time. | Around the castle turrets fiercely moaned the autumn blast, | | 52 | 142 |
| 38: Monument To Irish Emigrants. | A kindly thought, a generous deed, | | 36 | 147 |
| 39: Moonlight Reveries. | The moon from solemn azure sky | | 48 | 142 |
| 40: My Thoughts To-Night. | I sit by the fire musing, | | 40 | 140 |
| 41: Mystical Rose, Pray For Us! | O aptly named, Illustrious One! | | 32 | 142 |
| 42: Nature's Music. | Of many gifts bestowed on earth | | 32 | 149 |
| 43: On Some Rose Leaves Brought From The Vale Of Cashmere. | Faded and pale their beauty, vanished their early bloom, | | 24 | 135 |
| 44: On The Death Of The Same Reverend Nun, The Venerable Mother St. Madeleine, Ten Years Later. | Grief reigns now within the convent walls, | 1869 | 56 | 134 |
| 45: Our Canadian Woods In Early Autumn. | I have passed the day 'mid the forest gay, | | 48 | 149 |
| 46: Our Mountain Cemetery. | Lonely and silent and calm it lies | | 48 | 130 |
| 47: Our Saviour And The Samaritan Woman At The Well. | Close beside the crystal waters of Jacob's far-famed well, | | 36 | 144 |
| 48: Our Saviour's Boyhood. | With what a flood of wondrous thoughts | | 48 | 132 |
| 49: Red Rock Camp. - A Tale Of Early Colorado. | My simple story is of those times ere the magic power of steam | | 78 | 137 |
| 50: Rejoicings After The Battle Of Inkerman.* | Rejoice! the fearful day is o'er | | 48 | 141 |
| 51: Rich And Poor. | Neath the radiance faint of the starlit sky | | 72 | 132 |
| 52: Sea-Shore Musings. | How oft I've longed to gaze on thee, | | 40 | 141 |
| 53: Sister M. B.'s Arrival In Montreal, 1654. | It is now two hundred years and more | | 42 | 142 |
| 54: St. Francis Of Borgia By The Coffin Of Queen Isabel. | Open the coffin and shroud until | | 48 | 132 |
| 55: St. Ignatius Loyola At The Chapel Of Our Lady Of Montserrat. | Tis midnight, and solemn darkness broods | | 56 | 156 |
| 56: The Blind Man Of Jericho. | He sat by the dusty way-side, | | 60 | 133 |
| 57: The Boy's Appeal. | O say, dear sister, are you coming | | 40 | 141 |
| 58: The Bride Of A Year. | She stands in front of her mirror | | 40 | 149 |
| 59: The Child's Dream. | Buried in childhood's cloudless dreams, a fair-haired nursling lay, | | 32 | 144 |
| 60: The Choice Of Sweet Shy Clare. | Fair as a wreath of fresh spring flowers, a band of maidens lay | | 40 | 147 |
| 61: The Clouds That Promise A Glorious Morrow. | The clouds that promise a glorious morrow | | 40 | 139 |
| 62: The Death Of The Pauper Child. | Hush, mourning mother, wan and pale! | | 48 | 152 |
| 63: The Emigrant's Address To America. | All hail to thee, noble and generous Land! | | 36 | 138 |
| 64: The Fall Of The Leaf. | Earnest and sad the solemn tale | | 24 | 150 |
| 65: The Final Reckoning. | Twas a wild and stormy sunset, changing tints of lurid red | | 32 | 136 |
| 66: The Four Wishes. | Father!" a youthful hero said, bending his lofty brow | | 48 | 152 |
| 67: The Garden Of Gethsemane. | The place is fair and tranquil, Judaea's cloudless sky | | 28 | 152 |
| 68: The Girl Martyr. | Upon his sculptured judgment throne the Roman Ruler sate; | | 54 | 131 |
| 69: The Hunter And His Dying Steed. | The Hunter stooped o'er his dying steed | | 48 | 189 |
| 70: The Huron Chief's Daughter. | The dusky warriors stood in groups around the funeral pyre, | | 44 | 132 |
| 71: The Lady Of Rathmore Hall. | Throughout the country for many a mile | | 90 | 128 |
| 72: The Magdalen At The Madonna's Shrine. | O Madonna, pure and holy, | | 48 | 142 |
| 73: The Maple Tree. | Well have Canadians chosen thee | | 40 | 234 |
| 74: The Old Towers Of Mount Royal Or Ville Marie. | On proud Mount Royal's Eastern side, | | 64 | 151 |
| 75: The Parting Soul And Her Guardian Angel. | Oh! say must I leave this world of light | | 51 | 134 |
| 76: The Purification. | Softly the sunbeams gleamed athwart the Temple proud and high | | 24 | 147 |
| 77: The Recollect Church.* | Quickly are crumbling the old gray walls, | | 72 | 147 |
| 78: The River Saguenay. | Few poets yet in praise of thee | | 36 | 125 |
| 79: The Shepherdess Of The Arno. | Tis no wild and wond'rous legend, but a simple pious tale | | 44 | 138 |
| 80: The Soldier's Death. | The day was o'er, and in their tent the weaned victors met, | | 24 | 131 |
| 81: The Stable Of Bethlehem. | Twas not a palace proud and fair | | 32 | 131 |
| 82: The Sunset Thoughts Of A Dying Girl. | Friends! do you see in yon sunset sky, | | 36 | 138 |
| 83: The Ten Lepers. | Neath the olives of Samaria, in far-famed Galilee, | | 36 | 128 |
| 84: The Transplanted Rose Tree. | Amid the flowers of a garden glade | | 48 | 162 |
| 85: The Tryst Of The Sachem's Daughter. | In the far green depths of the forest glade, | | 84 | 129 |
| 86: The Two Birth Nights. | Bright glittering lights are gleaming in yonder mansion proud, | | 44 | 122 |
| 87: The Vesper Hour. | Soft and holy Vesper Hour | | 32 | 126 |
| 88: The Village Girl And Her High Born Suitor. | O maiden, peerless, come dwell with me, | | 36 | 129 |
| 89: The Voices Of The Death Chamber. | The night lamp is faintly gleaming | | 56 | 131 |
| 90: The Whispers Of Time. | What does time whisper, youth gay and light, | | 24 | 143 |
| 91: The White Canoe. A Legend Of Niagara Falls. | In summer's rare beauty the earth is arrayed, | | 345 | 128 |
| 92: The White Maiden And The Indian Girl. | Child of the Woods, bred in leafy dell, | | 60 | 132 |
| 93: The Wood Fairy's Well. | Thou hast been to the forest, thou sorrowing maiden, | | 40 | 144 |
| 94: The Wreath Of Forest Flowers. | In a fair and sunny forest glade | | 40 | 148 |
| 95: The Young Greek Odalisque. | Mid silken cushions, richly wrought, a young Greek girl reclined, | | 60 | 126 |
| 96: The Young Novice. | The lights yet gleamed on the holy shrine, the incense hung around, | | 16 | 134 |
| 97: Time's Changes In A Household. | They grew together side by side, | | 25 | 127 |
| 98: To A Beautiful Child On Her Birthday, With A Wreath Of Flowers. | Whilst others give thee wond'rous toys, | | 48 | 142 |
| 99: To A Young Girl With An Album. | Gentle Lily with this Album my warmest wishes take, | | 20 | 143 |
| 100: To A Young Mother On The Birth Of Her First-Born Child. | Young mother! proudly throbs thine heart, and well may it rejoice, | | 28 | 156 |
| 101: To My First Born. | Fair tiny rosebud! what a tide | | 36 | 149 |
| 102: To My Husband On Our Wedding-Day. | I leave for thee, beloved one, | | 40 | 134 |
| 103: To The Soldiers Of Pius Ninth. | Warriors true, 'tis no false glory | | 32 | 137 |
| 104: Tribute To The Memory Of The Rev. Sister The Nativity, Foundress Of The Convent Of Villa Maria (Monklands.) | Oh, Villa Maria, thrice favored spot, | 1875 | 60 | 128 |
| 105: Virgin Of Bethlehem. | Virgin of Bethlehem! spouse of the Holy One! | | 20 | 131 |
| 106: Welcome To Our Canadian Spring. | We welcome thy coming, bright, sunny Spring, | | 32 | 134 |
| 107: When Will It End? | O when will it end, this appalling strife, | | 48 | 140 |
| 108: Winter In Canada. | Nay tell me not that, with shivering fear, | | 54 | 146 |
