The same old story told again— The maiden droops her head, The ripening glow of her crimson c… Is answering in her stead. The pleading tone of a trembling v…

When little Dickie Swope’s a man, He’s go’ to be a Sailor; An’ little Hamey Tincher, he’s A-go’ to be a Tailor: Bud Mitchell, he’s a-go’ to be

John McKeen, in his rusty dress, His loosened collar, and swarthy t… His face unshaven, and none the le… His hearty laugh and his wholesome… And the wealth of a workman’s vote…

I bear dis cross dis many a mile. O de cross-bearin’ chile— De cross-bearin’ chile! I bear dis cross 'long many a road Wha’ de pink ain’t bloom’ an’ de g…

Maud Muller worked at making hay, And cleared her forty cents a day. Her clothes were coarse, but her h… And so she worked in the sweet sun… Singing as glad as a bird in May

Sence I tuk holt o’ Gibbses’ Chu… And be’n a-handlin’ the concern, I’ve travelled round the grand old… Of Indiany, lots, o’ late—! I’ve canvassed Crawferdsville and…

The beauty of her hair bewilders m… Pouring adown the brow, its cloven… Swirling about the ears on either… And storming round the neck tumult… Or like the lights of old antiquit…

Like a drift of faded blossoms Caught in a slanting rain, His fingers glimpsed down the stri… In a tremulous refrain: Patter and tinkle, and drip and dr…

Donn Piatt—of Mac-o-chee,— Not the one of History, Who, with flaming tongue and pen, Scathes the vanities of men; Not the one whose biting wit

I put by the half-written poem, While the pen, idly trailed in my… Writes on—, 'Had I words to compl… Who’d read it, or who’d understand… But the little bare feet on the st…

The landscape, like the awed face… Grew curiously blurred; a hush of… Fell on the fields, and in the dar… The zephyr held its breath. No wavering glamour-work of light…

Just the airiest, fairiest slip of… With a Gainsborough hat, like a b… Tilted up at one side with the jau… And a knot of red roses sown in un… Where the shadows are lost in her…

There is a princess in the South About whose beauty rumors hum Like honey-bees about the mouth Of roses dewdrops falter from; And O her hair is like the fine

All were quite gracious in their p… Bud’s Fairy; but another stir abo… That murmur was occasioned by a sw… Young lady-caller, from a neighbor… Who rose reluctantly to say good-n…

In its color, shade and shine, ‘T was a summer warm as wine, With an effervescent flavoring of… And a fragrance and a taste Of ripe roses gone to waste,