#AmericanWriters
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 stand above the city’s rush and… And gaze far down with calm and un… To where the misty smoke wreath gr… Above the myriad roofs and spires… Still is my heart and vacant is my…
Mastah drink his ol’ Made’a, Missy drink huh sherry wine, Ovahseah lak his whiskey, But dat othah drink is mine, Des’ 'lasses an’ watah, 'lasses an…
DE sun hit shine an’ de win’ hit… Ol’ Brer Rabbit be a—layin’ low, He know dat de wintah time a—comin… De huntah man he walk an’ wait, He walk right by Brer Rabbit’s ga…
Little brown baby wif spa’klin’ ey… Come to yo’ pappy an’ set on his k… What you been doin’, suh —makin’ s… Look at dat bib —you’s es du’ty ez… Look at dat mouf —dat’s merlasses,…
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…
Dey was talkin’ in de cabin, dey w… But I listened kin’ o’ keerless,… An’ on Sunday, too, I noticed, de… Stan’in’ all erroun’ de roadside w… But I did n’t t’ink erbout it 'tw…
LOVE used to carry a bow, you kn… But now he carries a taper; It is either a length of wax aglow… Or a twist of lighted paper. I pondered a little about the scam…
Out in the sky the great dark clou… I look far out into the pregnant n… Where I can hear the solemn boomi… And catch the gleaming of a random… That tells me that the ship I see…
I’ve been list’nin’ to them lawyer… In the court house up the street, An’ I’ve come to the conclusion That I’m most completely beat. Fust one feller riz to argy,
Thou art my lute, by thee I sing,… My being is attuned to thee. Thou settest all my words a—wing, And meltest me to melody. Thou art my life, by thee I live,
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…
She gave a rose, And I kissed it and pressed it. I love her, she knows, And my action confessed it. She gave me a rose,
In the silence of my heart, I will spend an hour with thee, When my love shall rend apart All the veil of mystery: All that dim and misty veil
In the tents of Akbar Are dole and grief to—day, For the flower of all the Indies Has gone the silent way. In the tents of Akbar