#AmericanWriters
TUSKEGEE, ALA., APRIL 22,… Not to the midnight of the gloomy… Do we revert to—day; we look upon The golden present and the future… Whose vistas show us visions of th…
WHAT if the wind do howl without… And turn the creaking weather—vane… What if the arrows of the rain Do beat against the window—pane? Art thou not armored strong and fa…
I HELD my heart so far from harm… I let it wander far and free In mead and mart, without alarm, Assured it must come back to me. And all went well till on a day,
THE rain streams down like harp—s… The wind, that world—old harpist,… And ever as he sings his low refra… He plays upon the harp—strings of…
By the pool that I see in my drea… I have sat with you time and again… And listened beneath the dank leav… To the sibilant sound of the rain. And the pool, it is silvery bright…
The snow lies deep upon the ground… And winter’s brightness all around Decks bravely out the forest sere, With jewels of the brave old year. The coasting crowd upon the hill
I have no fancy for that ancient c… That makes us masters of our desti… And not our lives, to hold or give… As will directs; I cannot, will n… That men, the subtle worms, who pl…
W’EN you full o’ worry 'Bout yo’ wo’k an’ sich, W’en you kind o’ bothered Case you can’t get rich, An’ yo’ neighboh p’ospah
If I could but forget The fullness of those first sweet… When you burst sun—like thro’ the… Of unacquaintance, on my sight, And made the wet, gray day seem br…
THE YOUNG MASTER ASKS… Whut you say, dah? huh, uh! chile, You 's enough to dribe me wile. Want a sto’y; jes’ hyeah dat! Whah’ 'll I git a sto’y at?
MAMMY’S in de kitchen, an’ de d… All de pickaninnies climb an’ tug… Gittin’ to de winder, stickin’ dah… Evah one ermong us des all nose an… 'Whut’s she cookin’, Isaac?' 'Whu…
When I was young I longed for Lo… And held his glory far above All other earthly things. I cried… ‘Come, Love, dear Love, with me a… And with my subtlest art I wooed,
HELLO, ole man, you’re a—gittin’… An’ it beats ole Ned to see the w… 'At the crow’s feet’s a—getherin’… Tho’ it oughtn’t to cause me no su… Fur there’s many a sun 'at you’ve…
Oh, awful Power whose works repel The marvel of the earth’s designs,… I 'll hie me otherwhere to dwell, Arcadia has trolley lines.
With what thou gavest me, O Maste… I have wrought. Such chances, such abilities, To see the end was not for my poor… Thine was the impulse, thine the f…