| Hynes | Gibson |
| "'In vision I roamed'" . . . Universe trackless, distant, drear | "'In vision I roamed'" . . . Universe taciturn and drear |
| "In a Wood" Cankering in blank despair | "In a Wood" Cankering in black despair |
| "Nature's Questioning" As though the master’s way Through the long teaching day | "Nature's Questioning" As though the master's ways Through the long teaching days |
| "The Impercipient" O, doth a bird beshorn of wings | "The Impercipient" O, doth a bird deprived of wings |
| "The Problem" . . . the few who listen intently with strained and eager and reaching sense | "The Problem" . . . the few who hearken intently and carry an eagerly upstrained sense |
| "On a Fine Morning" With its iriséd embowment | "On a Fine Morning" With its iris-hued embowment |
| "The Well-Beloved" I went by star and planet shine Towards my Dear's abode At Jordon, there to make her mine When the next noon-tide glowed. | "The Well-Beloved" I went by star and planet shine Towards the dear one's home At Kingsbere, there to make her mine When the next sun upclomb. |
| "The Dame of Athelhall" . . . and the port appeared in view | "The Dame of Athelhall" . . . and the port uprose to view |
| "The Church-Builder" The church projects a battled shade | "The Church-Builder" The church flings forth a battled shade |
| "The Ruined Maid" ‘A polish is gained with one’s ruin,’ said she. | "The Ruined Maid" ‘Some polish is gained with one’s ruin,’ said she. |
| "The Supplanter" A year: and he is travelling back To one who wastes in clay; From dawn till eventide he fares Along the wintry way, From dawn till eventide he bears A wreath of blooms and bay. | "The Supplanter" A year beholds him wend again To her who wastes in clay; From day-dawn until eve he fares Along the wintry way From day-dawn until eve repairs Towards her mound to pray. |
| "Shut out that Moon" She bears too much the guise she wore | "Shut out that Moon" She wears too much the guise she wore |
| "Misconception" . . . Those moils you fear for me My nature revels in! | "Misconception" . . . Those moils you fear for me I find most pleasure in! |
| "The Upper Birch-Leaves" --But that you follow | "The Upper Birch-Leaves" --But that you follow |
| "In a Whispering Gallery" And from this gaunt gallery | "In a Whispering Gallery" And this gaunt gray gallery |
| "In the Garden" Shading its finger where | "In the Garden" Throwing a shade to where |
| "Afterwards" Till they swell again, as they were a new bell’s . . . | "Afterwards" Till they rise again, as they were a new bell’s . . . |