#AmericanWriters
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…
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…
STEP wid de banjo an’ glide wid… Dis ain’ no time fu’ to pottah an’… Fu’ Christmas is comin’, it’s rig… An’ dey’s houahs to dance 'fo’ de… What if de win’ is taihin’ an’ whi…
Little Miss Margaret sits in a po… She and her Dolly have just falle… Dolly is gazing with sorest stare, Fitted dejectedly back in her chai… Angry at Margaret, tearful and gr…
The sun has slipped his tether And galloped down the west. (Oh, it’s weary, weary waiting, lo… The little bird is sleeping In the softness of its nest.
I’S feelin’ kin’ o’ lonesome in m… An’ my min’s done los’ de minutes… W’ile it teks me back a—flyin’ to… Whaih de Chesapeake goes grumblin… Oh, de ol’ plantation’s callin’ to…
Anchored IF thro’ the sea of night which h… I could swim out beyond the farthe… Break every barrier of circumstanc… And greet the Sun of sweeter life…
DEY was oncet a awful quoil 'twix… De pot was des a—bilin’ an’ de ski… Dey slurred each othah’s colah an’… W’ile de coal—oil can des gu—gled,… De pot, hit called de skillet des…
AN angel, robed in spotless white… Bent down and kissed the sleeping… Night woke to blush; the sprite wa… Men saw the blush and called it D…
Why was it that the thunder voice… Should call thee, studious, from t… Where calm—eyed Pallas with still… And charge thee seek the turmoil o… What bade thee hear the voice and…
Night, dim night, and it rains, my… (Art thou dreaming of me, I wonde… The trees are sad, and the wind co… Outside the rolling of the thunder… And the beat against the panes.
Duck come switchin’ 'cross de lot Hi, oh, Miss Lady! Hurry up an’ hide de pot Hi, oh, Miss Lady! Duck’s a mighty 'spicious fowl,
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
She told the story, and the whole… At wrongs and cruelties it had not… But for this fearless woman’s voic… She spoke to consciences that long… Her message, Freedom’s clear reve…
OH, I am hurt to death, my Love; The shafts of Fate have pierced m… And I am sick and weary of The endless pain and smart. My soul is weary of the strife,