#AmericanWriters
When we hear Uncle Sidney tell About the long-ago An’ old, old friends he loved so w… When _he_ was young—My-oh!— Us childern all wish _we’d 'a’_ bi…
As one who cons at evening o’er an… And muses on the faces of the frie… So I turn the leaves of Fancy, ti… I find the smiling features of an… The lamplight seems to glimmer wit…
It was a man of many parts, Who in his coffer mind Had stored the Classics and the A… And Sciences combined; The purest gems of poesy
Young Philiper Flash was a promis… His intentions were good—but oh, h… For a person to think How the veriest pink And bloom of perfection may turn o…
The Town Karnteel—! It’s who’ll… Its praises jushtifiable? For who can sing av anything So lovely and reliable? Whin Summer, Spring, or Winter l…
Close the book and dim the light, I shall read no more to-night. No—I am not sleepy, dear— Do not go: sit by me here In the darkness and the deep
Some sings of the lily, and daisy,… And the pansies and pinks that the… throws In the green grassy lap of the med… Blinkin’ up at the skyes through t…
A NEW VERSION BY LEE… WHITCOMB RILEY ‘You are old, Father William, and… All the veins in your body were dr… Yet the end of your nose is red as…
I want to sing something—but this… I try and I try, but the rhymes a… As though they were damp, and the… Limp and unlovable. Words will not say what I yearn t…
For the sake of guilty conscience,… time Of the clockworks of my nature, I… A weak and sinful creature, as reg… The last five years and better. I…
The old sea captain has sailed the… So long, that the waves at mirth, Or the waves gone wild, and the cr… Were as near playmates from birth: He has loved both the storm and th…
There are many things that boys ma… Why this and that are thus and so,… Who made the world in the dark and… The great sun up to lighten it: Boys know new things every day—
‘Scurious-like,’ said the tree-toa… 'I’ve twittered far rain all day; And I got up soon, And I hollered till noon— But the sun, hit blazed away,
On old Brandywine—about Where White’s Lots is now laid ou… And the old crick narries down To the ditch that splits the town—… Kingry’s Mill stood. Hardly see
When frost’s all on our winder, an… All out-o’-doors, our 'Old-Kriss’… A-drivin’ round, ist purt’-nigh fr… With his old white mustache froze… But when it’s summer an’ all warm…