#AmericanWriters
To William Morris Pierson [1868-1870] Of the wealth of facts and fancies That our memories may recall, The old school-day romances
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…
A king—estranged from his loving… By a foolish royal whim— Tired and sick of the dull routine Of matters surrounding him— Issued a mandate in this wise.—
But yesterday!... O blooms of May, And summer roses—Where-away? O stars above, And lips of love
When Little Claude was naughty wu… At dinner-time, an’ said He won’t say '_Thank you_' to his… She maked him go to bed An’ stay two hours an’ not git up,…
'Mylo Jones’s wife’ was all I heerd, mighty near, last Fall— Visitun relations down T’other side of Morgantown! Mylo Jones’s wife she does
We must get home—for we have been… So long it seems forever and a day… And O so very homesick we have gr… The laughter of the world is like… In our tired hearing, and its song…
The stars are falling, and the sky Is like a field of faded flowers; The winds on weary wings go by; The moon hides, and the tempest lo… And still through every clime and…
O the waiting in the watches of th… In the darkness, desolation, and c… The awful hush that holds us shut… The ever weary memory that ever we… Recounting ever over every aching…
Season of snows, and season of flo… Seasons of loss and gain!— Since grief and joy must alike be… Why do we still complain? Ever our failing, from sun to sun,
The old days—the far days— The overdear and fair!— The old days—the lost days— How lovely they were! The old days of Morning,
The world is turned ag’in’ me, And people says, 'They guess That nothin’ else is in me But pure maliciousness!' I git the blame for doin’
Thousands of thousands of hushed y… Out on the edge of Chaos, all alo… I stood on peaks of vapor, high up… Above a sea that knew nor ebb nor… Nor any motion won of winds that b…
I dreamed I was a spider; A big, fat, hungry spider; A lusty, rusty spider With a dozen palsied limbs; With a dozen limbs that dangled
Picnics is fun 'at’s purty hard to… I purt’-nigh ruther go to them tha… I purt’-nigh ruther go to them tha… With our Char_lot_ty to the Trick…