#AmericanWriters
I been t’inkin’ ‘bout de preachah;… ’Bout hit bein’ people’s dooty, fu… How one ought to live so pleasant… Meetin’ evahbody roun’ us wid ouah… Dat 's all right, I ain’t a—sputi…
Come on walkin’ wid me, Lucy; 't… Wen de sunshine 's shoutin’ glory… An’ de little Johnny—Jump—Ups 's… Den a—lookin’ roun’ to ax each oth… Don’ you hyeah dem cows a—mooin’?…
W’EN us fellers stomp around, mak… Gramma says, 'There’s certain tim… W’en they need a shingle or the so… She says 'we’re a—itchin’ for a ri… An’ she says, 'Now thes you wait,
With sombre mien, the Evening gra… Comes nagging at the heels of Day… And driven faster and still faster Before the dusky—mantled Master, The light fades from her fearful e…
UNDERNEATH the autumn sky, Haltingly, the lines go by. Ah, would steps were blithe and ga… As when first they marched away, Smile on lip and curl on brow,
AN old worn harp that had been pl… Till all its strings were loose an… Joy, Hate and Fear, each one essa… To play. But each in turn had fou… No sweet responsiveness of sound
They please me not—these solemn so… That hint of sermons covered up. 'T is true the world should heed i… But in a poem let me sup, Not simples brewed to cure or ease
Kiss me, Miami, thou most constan… I love thee more for that thou cha… When Winter comes with frigid bla… Or when the blithesome Spring is… And Summer’s here with sunshine h…
Come when the nights are bright wi… Or when the moon is mellow; Come when the sun his golden bars Drops on the hay—field yellow. Come in the twilight soft and gray…
Thy tones are silver melted into s… And as I dream I see no walls around, But seem to hear A gondolier
UNCLE JOHN, he makes me tired; Thinks 'at he’s jest so all—fired Smart, 'at he kin pick up, so, Ever’thing he wants to know. Tried to ketch me up last night,
Men may sing of their Havanas, el… The real or fancied virtues of the… But I worship Nicotina at a diffe… And she sits enthroned in glory in… It ‘s as fragrant as the meadows w…
I 's boun’ to see my gal to—night— Oh, lone de way, my dearie! De moon ain’t out, de stars ain’t… Oh, lone de way, my dearie! Dis hoss o’ mine is pow’ful slow,
Whut time 'd dat clock strike? Nine? No—eight; I didn’t think hit was so late. Aer chew! I must 'a’ got a cough, I raally b’lieve I did doze off—
As some rapt gazer on the lowly ea… Looks up to radiant planets, rangi… So I, whose soul doth know thy wo… Look longing up to thee as to a st…