#Americans
O Nicias, not for us alone Was laughing Eros born, Nor shines alone for us the moon, Nor burns the ruddy morn; Alas! to-morrow lies not in the ke…
Silent, to-night, o’er Judah’s hi… Bend low the angel throng, No heavenly music fills the air Exultantly with song; Yet, close above the sin-scarred e…
Since Chloe is so monstrous fair, With such an eye and such an air, What wonder that the world complai… When she each am’rous suit disdain… Close to her mother’s side she cli…
Good old days—dear old days When my heart beat high and bold— When the things of earth seemed fu… And the future a haze of gold! Oh, merry was I that winter night…
SAILOR You, who have compassed land and s… Now all unburied lie; All vain your store of human lore, For you were doomed to die.
Play that you are mother dear, And play that papa is your beau; Play that we sit in the corner her… Just as we used to, long ago. Playing so, we lovers two
Up yonder in Buena Park There is a famous spot, In legend and in history Yclept the Waller Lot. There children play in daytime
Dear wife, last midnight, whilst… The tomes you so despise, A spectre rose beside the bed, And spake in this true wise: 'From Canaan’s beatific coast
Oh, them days on Red Hoss Mounta… When the money flowed like likker,… When the nights wuz crisp ’nd balm… With the joints all throwed wide o… Oh, them times on Red Hoss Mount…
In Mrs. Potter’s latest play The costuming is fine; Her waist is made decollete— Her skirt is new design.
When, to despoil my native France… With flaming torch and cruel sword And boisterous drums her foeman co… I curse him and his vandal horde! Yet, what avail accrues to her,
I hear Thy voice, dear Lord; I hear it by the stormy sea When winter nights are black and w… And when, affright, I call to The… It calms my fears and whispers me,
My garden aboundeth in pleasant no… And fragrance is over it all; For sweet is the smell of my old,… In their places against the wall. Here is a folio that’s grim with a…
My books are on their shelves agai… And clouds lie low with mist and r… Afar the Arno murmurs low The tale of fields of melting snow… List to the bells of times agone
When our babe he goeth walking in… Around his tinkling feet the sunbe… The posies they are good to him, And bow them as they should to him… As fareth he upon his kingly way;