#AmericanWriters
DIED—Early morning of September… in the gleaming dawn of ‘name and… Hamilton J. Dunbar. Dead! Dead! Dead! We thought him ours alone;
A little boy once played so loud That the Thunder, up in a thunder… Said, 'Since I can’t be heard, wh… I’ll never, never thunder again!' And a little girl once kept so sti…
_(Grandfather, musing.)_ In childish days! O memory, You bring such curious things to m… Laughs to the lip—tears to the eye… In looking on the gifts that lie
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…
Let us be thankful—not only becaus… Since last our universal thanks we… We have grown greater in the world… And fortune’s newer smiles surpass… But thankful for all things that c…
In words like weeds, I’ll wrap me… Like coarsest clothes against the… But that large grief which these e… Is given in outline and no more. —TENNYSON.
It’s a mystery to see me—a man o’… Who’s lived a cross old bachelor f… A-lookin’ glad and smilin’! And t… That you can guess the reason why… I must tell you all about it! But…
My Mary, O my Mary! The simmer-skies are blue; The dawnin’ brings the dazzle, An’ the gloamin’ brings the dew,— The mirk o’ nicht the glory
At Union Station 'Ll where in the world my eyes has… Ef I hain’t missed that train ag’… Chuff! And whistle! And toot! An… But blast and blister the dasted t…
Scene.—_A kitchen.—Group of Chil… of the Seasons discovered in the s… wand, and, with eerie, sharp, impe… bespelled auditors, who neither se… presence._
The frightened herds of clouds acr… Trample the sunshine down, and cha… Into the dusky forest-lands of gra… And sombre twilight. Far and fain… The wild goose trails his harrow,…
I quarrel not with destiny, But make the best of everything– The best is good enough for me. Leave discontent alone, and she Will shut her mouth and let you si…
Take a feller 'at’s sick and laid… All shaky, and ga’nted, and pore— Jes all so knocked out he can’t ha… With a stiff upper-lip any more; Shet him up all alone in the gloom…
The Hired Man’s supper, which he… In near reach of the wood-box, the… And one leaf of the kitchen-table,… Somewhat belated, and in lifted pa… His dextrous knife was balancing a…
Welladay! Here I lay You at rest—all worn away, O my pencil, to the tip Of our old companionship!