#AmericanWriters
Blown out of the prairie in twilig… Half bold and half timid, yet lazy… Loath ever to leave, and yet fearf… He limps in the clearing, an outca… A shade on the stubble, a ghost by…
(BY A COMMUNICANT OF '… He wore, I think, a chasuble, the… A stole and snowy alb likewise,—I… He called me ‘daughter,’ as he rai… And then, in thrilling undertones,…
The shades of night were falling f… As through an Eastern village pas… A youth who bore, through dust and… A stencil-plate, that read complet… CLEAN PAINT, OIL CLOT…
(MOUTH OF THE SHAFT) What I want is my husband, sir,— And if you’re a man, sir, You’ll give me an answer,— Where is my Joe?
June 4th! Do you know what that d… June 4th! By this air and these p… Well,—only you know how I hate sc… These might be my very last lines! For perhaps, sir, you’ll kindly re…
My Papa knows you, and he says yo… books; But I never read nothing you wrot… looks. So I guess you’re like me when I…
(SIMPSON’S BAR, 1858) So you’ve kem 'yer agen, And one answer won’t do? Well, of all the derned men That I’ve struck, it is you.
(AN AERIAL RETROSPECT) What was it filled my youthful dre… In place of Greek or Latin themes… Or beauty’s wild, bewildering beam… Avitor!
Bells of the Past, whose long-for… Still fills the wide expanse, Tingeing the sober twilight of the… With color and romance: I hear your call, and see the sun…
Name of my heroine, simply ‘Rose;… Surname, tolerable only in prose; Habitat, Paris,—that is where She resided for change of air; Aetat twenty; complexion fair;
Why, as to that, said the engineer… Ghosts ain’t things we are apt to… Spirits don’t fool with levers muc… And throttle-valves don’t take to… And as for Jim,
Beautiful! Sir, you may say so. T… Is thar, old gal,—Chiquita, my da… Feel of that neck, sir,—thar’s vel… you vixen! Whoa! I say. Jack, trot her out;…
DRAMATIS PERSONAE Poet. Philosopher. Jones of Mari… POET Halt! Here we are. Now wheel your… Just where you stand; then doff yo…
It was noon by the sun; we had fin… And was passin’ remarks goin’ back… Jones was countin’ his chips, Smi… Of ideas that a 'straight’ should… When Johnson of Elko came gallopi…
As I stand by the cross on the lo… Looking over the ultimate sea, In the gloom of the mountain a shi… And one sails away from the lea: One spreads its white wings on a f…