| | Poem Title | First Lines | Period | # Lines | # Reads |
| 1: | A Hand-Me-Down. | Said Sue to her suitor: | | 6 | 300 |
| 2: | A Hardship. | I never saw a loaf of bread | | 4 | 341 |
| 3: | A New Version. | Old Mother Hubbard | | 6 | 331 |
| 4: | A Pun From The Deep. | A funny thing once happened to a German from Berlin, | | 4 | 333 |
| 5: | A Wonderful Feat. | I never walk along the street | | 4 | 332 |
| 6: | Alas. | He led her out across the sand, | | 4 | 333 |
| 7: | An Irish Toast. | Here's to dear Ould Ireland, | | 12 | 326 |
| 8: | April Fool. | Twas on the f-f-f-first of April D-D-Day, | | 20 | 320 |
| 9: | At The Telephone. | Ting-ling--"South, please, 1085; | | 20 | 331 |
| 10: | Brutal Mary. | Mary had a little lamb, | | 4 | 299 |
| 11: | Christmas Toys. | Say, I like toys, | | 43 | 293 |
| 12: | Crabbed. | A college professor one day | | 5 | 352 |
| 13: | Farewell Snow. | That light, that white, that weird, uncanny substance we call snow | | 18 | 323 |
| 14: | Genius. | There was once a young man quite erratic | | 5 | 371 |
| 15: | Grit. | I hate the fellow who sits around | | 8 | 339 |
| 16: | Halloween. | A night when witches skim the air, | | 6 | 317 |
| 17: | He Aped Her. | An impudent Barbary ape | | 5 | 304 |
| 18: | If I Could Fly. | If I had wings just like a bird | | 20 | 297 |
| 19: | If I Were City Editor. | If I were City Editor | | 16 | 322 |
| 20: | In Deeper Vein. | The way was dark within the gloomy church-yard, | | 30 | 274 |
| 21: | In Kentucky. | The moonlight may be softest | | 88 | 313 |
| 22: | Keep Tryin'. | When you're feelin' blue as ink | | 29 | 310 |
| 23: | L'Envoi. | I'm the ghost of that poor gobbler | | 18 | 303 |
| 24: | Lent. | Oh lend me five," the young man cried, | | 4 | 316 |
| 25: | Life. | The list is long, the stories read the same; | | 8 | 320 |
| 26: | Loving John. | John went into the garden one day | | 6 | 294 |
| 27: | Modern Maud Muller. | Maud Muller on a summer's day, | | 4 | 270 |
| 28: | My Life And Death. | I'm just a turkey gobbler, | | 36 | 279 |
| 29: | Nocturne. | A cat duet. | | 16 | 378 |
| 30: | Now There's A Coon In The Moon. | There was once an eccentric old coon, | | 5 | 288 |
| 31: | O'Dowd Of The Jefferson Club. | A maddened horse comes down the street, | | 20 | 323 |
| 32: | Oh Scissors! | I knew a young man so conceited | | 5 | 274 |
| 33: | Requiescat. | Oh weep fair South, and bow thy head | | 24 | 324 |
| 34: | Saturday On The Farm. | Tis Saturday morn and all is bright | | 20 | 305 |
| 35: | Sprig Has Cub. | Sprig, Sprig--Oh lovely Sprig! | | 24 | 351 |
| 36: | Stylish. | There once was an old crocodile | | 5 | 285 |
| 37: | Take Up The Household Burden. | Take up the household burden, | | 32 | 270 |
| 38: | Tale Of Three Cities. | A seedy young man in Savanah | | 10 | 307 |
| 39: | The Alarm Clock. | With a clatter and a jangle, | | 9 | 308 |
| 40: | The Circus. | O, the circus parade! O, the circus parade! | | 19 | 299 |
| 41: | The County Fair. | Oh, let's go out to the county fair | | 12 | 357 |
| 42: | The Doodle Bug. | Why that's a doodle bug, my child | | 8 | 288 |
| 43: | The Epic Of The Hog. | I lived upon a little farm, | | 60 | 292 |
| 44: | The Glorious Fourth And Its Memories. | Have you ever mused in silence upon a summer's day | | 40 | 280 |
| 45: | The Hot Weather Fiend. | Ah, somewhere in another world | | 8 | 320 |
| 46: | The Lobster. | Lobsters haven't any feet, | | 14 | 306 |
| 47: | The Medicine Man. | Good people if you have the mumps, | | 8 | 299 |
| 48: | The Next Morning. | What a difference in the morning | | 8 | 266 |
| 49: | The Processional. | When Julius Caesar met his death, | | 48 | 295 |
| 50: | The Rubaiyat Of A Kentuckian. | Wake for the sun, that scatters into flight, | | 16 | 305 |
| 51: | The Sad Turkey Gobbler. | O a fat turkey gobbler once sat on a limb | | 8 | 322 |
| 52: | The Sissy Boy. | Beware the Sissy Boy my child, | | 42 | 351 |
| 53: | The War Of The Rats And Mice. | Far back within an age remote, | | 100 | 280 |
| 54: | Things Worth While. | To sit and dream in a shady nook | | 24 | 287 |
| 55: | To A Child At Christmas Time. | May the day that gave Christ birth | | 4 | 293 |
| 56: | To Clara Morris. | In days gone by, the poets wrote | | 32 | 275 |
| 57: | To Gelett Burgess. | I never saw a purple cow, | | 4 | 310 |
| 58: | To Poe. | You lived in a land horror-haunted, | | 4 | 283 |
| 59: | Transcendentalism. | What is transcendentalism? | | 11 | 305 |
| 60: | Vitascope Pictures. | A young girl stands | | 20 | 287 |
| 61: | When The Lid Was On. | They were seated there in silence | | 16 | 310 |
| 62: | Why The Mole Is Blind. | In days gone by, when cows could fly | | 73 | 303 |
| 63: | You Couldn't Hardly Notice It At All. | There was a girl in our town | | 13 | 272 |
