#AmericanWriters
I’d like a stocking made for a gia… And a meeting house full of toys, Then I’d go out in a happy hunt For the poor little girls and boys… Up the street and down the street,
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one nigh… Sailed off in a wooden shoe,— Sailed on a river of misty light Into a sea of dew. “Where are you going, and what do…
Of mornings, bright and early, When the lark is on the wing And the robin in the maple Hops from her nest to sing, From yonder cheery chamber
One night a tiny dewdrop fell Into the bosom of a rose,— “Dear little one, I love thee wel… Be ever here thy sweet repose!” Seeing the rose with love bedight,
A tortuous double iron track; a st… A locomotive, tender, tanks; a coa… Some postal cars, and baggage, too… With buffers, duffers, switches, a… This is the Orient’s novel pride,…
Though care and strife Elsewhere be rife, Upon my word I do not heed ‘em; In bed I lie With books hard by,
To-day I strayed in Charing Cros… With thinking of my home and frien… There was no water in my eyes, but… And my heart lay like a sodden, so… This way and that streamed multitu…
The gods let slip that fiendish gr… Upon me last week Sunday— No fiercer storm than racked my fo… E’er swept the Bay of Fundy; But now, good-by
When the world is fast asleep, Along the midnight skies— As though it were a wandering clou… The ghostly dream-ship flies. An angel stands at the dream-ship’…
Star of the East, that long ago Brought wise men on their way Where, angels singing to and fro, The Child of Bethlehem lay— Above that Syrian hill afar
A little boy whose name was Tim Once ate some jelly-cake for tea— Which cake did not agree with him, As by the sequel you shall see. ‘My darling child,’ his mother sai…
All day long they come and go— Pittypat and Tippytoe; Footprints up and down the hall, Playthings scattered on the floor, Finger-marks along the wall,
Up yonder in Buena Park There is a famous spot, In legend and in history Yclept the Waller Lot. There children play in daytime
How cool and fair this cellar wher… My throne a dusky cask is; To do no thing but just to sing And drown the time my task is. The cooper he’s
(FOR THE FELLOWSHIP CLU Lyman and Frederick and Jim, one… Set out in a great big ship— Steamed to the ocean adown the bay Out of a New York slip.