| Last Line | Poem | Author |
| 'But there is no joy in Mudville - mighty Casey has struck out.' | |
| 'Slouches toward Bethlehem to be born?' | |
| 'And miles to go before I sleep.' | |
| 'I shall but better love thee after death.' | |
| 'Fled is that music--do I wake or sleep?' | |
| 'The garland briefer than a girl's.' | |
| 'Till human voices wake us and we drown.' | |
| 'And dances with the daffodils.' | |
| 'chickens.' | |
| 'I stop somewhere waiting for you.' | |
| 'Rage, rage, against the dying of the light.' | |
| 'They danced by the light of the moon.' | |
| 'And death shalt be no more; death, thou shalt die.' | |
| 'Die soon.' | |
| 'But only God can make a tree.' | |
| 'Pro patria mori' | |
| 'To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield' | |
| 'If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?' | |
| 'To live with me, and be my love.' | |
| 'in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea-journey on the highway across America in tears to the door of my cottage in the Western night' | |