“Four Brothers, The,” 110

“From an Illinois Prairie Hut,” 145

From the four comers of the earth, 207

“Glimmer,” 58

“Gone,” 12

“Good Babies Make Good Poems,” 144

Good reading good reading, 143

“Government,” 265

“Graceland,” 16

“Grass,” 134

Green fishes on a red-lacquered tray, 43

“Grieg Being Dead,” 148

Grieg being dead we may speak of him and his art, 148

Guns on the battle lines have pounded now a year between Brussels and Paris, 107

“Gypsy Mother,” 14

“Halsted Street Car,” 4

“Hammer, The,” 54

“Harrison Street Court,” 11

“Hats,” 252

Hats, where do you belong?, 252

“Hawthorne,” 140

He had arguments about a woman, 75

He lived on the wings of storm, 137

He was in Cincinnati, she in Burlington, 206

“Helga,” 69

“Hellcat,” 75

Hog Butcher for the World, 3

“Hoodlums,” 60

“Horses and Men in Rain,” 59

“House,” 101

Huntington sleeps in a house six feet long, 55

I am a hoodlum, you are a hoodlum, we and all of us are a world of hoodlums—maybe so, 60

I am an ancient reluctant conscript, 102

I am Elizabeth Umpstead, dead at seventy-five years of age . . . , 164

I am making a Cartoon of a Woman, 184

I am singing to you, 104

I am The Great White Way of the city, 175

I am the nigger, 168

“I am the People, the Mob,” 173

I am the people—the mob—the crowd—the mass, 173

I asked the Mayor of Gary about the 12-hour day and the 7-day week, 61

I could love you, 74

I don’t know how he came, 147

I felt as if I had three hearts, 159

I have been watching the war map slammed up for advertising in front of the newspaper office, 107

I have often thought I should like to be hanged, 266

I have seen, 54

I heard a woman’s lips, 11

I know a Jew fish crier down on Maxwell Street with a voice like a north wind blowing over corn stubble in January, 5

I makes my livin’ washin’, 162

I saluted a nobody, 241

I sat with a dynamiter at supper in a German saloon eating steak and onions, 8

I saw Man, the man-hunter, 169

I shall foot it, 246

“I Should Like to Be Hanged on a Summer Afternoon,” 266

I waited today for a freight train to pass, 56

I was a boy when I heard three red words, 194

I was bom in the morning of the world, 222

I was bom on the prairie and the milk of its wheat, the red of its clover, the eyes of its women, gave me a song and a slogan, 176

I wish to God I never saw you, Mag, 6

If I should pamphleteer twenty years against royalists, 152

If you get enough money, 165

“Illinois Farmer,” 146

“Implications,” 15

“In a Back Alley,” 79

In a hole-in-a-wall on Halsted Street sits a gypsy woman, 14

In Abraham Lincoln’s city, 79