#AmericanWriters
This little toe is tired, This little toe needs rocking, This little toe is sleepy you know… But this little toe keeps talking, This toe big and tall is the misch…
When my blood flows calm as a purl… When my heart is asleep and my bra… It is then that I vow we must par… That I will forget you, and put y… Out of my life, as a dream is bani…
I know it is early morning, And hope is calling aloud, And your heart is afire with Yout… To hurry along with the crowd. But linger a bit by the roadside,
Wherefore in dreams are sorrows bo… A healed wound opened, or the past… Last night in my deep sleep I dre… Again the old love woke in me, and… On looks of fire, and kisses, and…
I loved a maiden, long ago, She held within her hand my fate; And in the ruddy sunset glow We lingered at the garden gate. The splendor of the western skies
I knew it the first of the summer, I knew it the same at the end, That you and your love were plight… But couldn’t you be my friend? Couldn’t we sit in the twilight,
The Queen is taking a drive to-da… They have hung with purple the car… They have dressed with purple the… Where the Queen goes forth and ne… Let no man labour as she goes by
She’s the jauntiest of creatures,… With her pretty patent leathers or… With her eyes inviting glances and… As she wanders by the ocean or str… She’s a captivating dresser, and h…
She waited in a rose-hued room; A wanton-hearted creature she, But beautiful and bright to see As some great orchid just in bloom… Upon wide cushions stretched at ea…
Born in the flesh, and bred in the… Some of us harbour still A New World pride: and we flaunt… The Spirit of Bunker Hill. We claim our place, as a separate…
In France I saw a hill-a gentle s… Rising above old tombs to greet th… From soft spring skies. Beyond th… But those green graves bespeak a b… There was a row of narrow beds, ne…
We will be what we could be. Do n… “It might have been, had not this,… No fate can keep us from the chose… He only might who is. We will do what we could do. Do n…
Beside us in our seeking after ple… Through all our restless striving… Through all our search for worldly… There walketh one whom no man like… Silent he follows, veiled of form…
Let me look always forward. Never… Was I not formed for progress? Ot… With onward pointing feet and sear… Would God have set me squarely on… Up which we all must labour with l…
Bohemia, o’er thy unatlassed borde… How many cross, with half-reluctan… And unformed fears of dangers and… To find delights, more wholesome a… Than ever yet were known to the “e…