#AmericanWriters
AN old man planted and dug and te… Toiling in joy from dew to dew; The sun was kind, and the rain bef… Fine grew his orchard and fair to… Then he said: ‘I will quiet my th…
MY heart to thy heart, My hand to thine; My lips to thy lips, Kisses are wine Brewed for the lover in sunshine a…
You 'll be wonderin’ whut ‘s de re… I ’s a grinnin’ all de time, An’ I guess you t’ink my sperits Mus’ be feelin’ mighty prime. Well, I 'fess up, I is tickled
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…
This poem must be done to—day; Then, I 'll e’en to it. I must not dream my time away,— I ‘m sure to rue it. The day is rather bright, I know
When all is done, and my last word… And ye who loved me murmur, ‘He i… Let no one weep, for fear that I… And sorrow too that ye should sorr… When all is done and in the oozing…
A YOUTH went faring up and down… Alack and well—a—day. He fared him to the market town, Alack and well—a—day. And there he met a maiden fair,
Woman’s sho’ a cur’ous critter, an… She’s a mess o’ funny capahs f’om… Ef you tries to un’erstan’ huh, an… 'D’ ain’t a bit o’ use to try to u… I don’ mean to be complainin’, but…
SILENCE, and whirling worlds af… Through all encircling skies. What floods come o’er the spirit’s… What wondrous thoughts arise. The earth, a mantle falls away,
This is the debt I pay Just for one riotous day, Years of regret and grief, Sorrow without relief. Pay it I will to the end —
HIT’S been drizzlin’ an’ been sp… Kin’ o’ techy all day long. I ain’t wet enough fu’ toddy, I’s too damp to raise a song, An’ de case have set me t’inkin’,
Slow de night 's a—fallin’, An’ I hyeah de callin, Out erpon de lonesome hill; Soun’ is moughty dreary, Solemn—lak an’ skeery,
THE draft of love was cool and sw… You gave me in the cup, But, ah, love’s fire is keen and f… And I am burning up. Unless the tears I shed for you
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…
He was a poet who wrote clever ver… And folks said he had a fine poeti… But his father, a practical farmer… Of letting the strength of his arm… He called on his sweetheart each…