#AmericanWriters
The greeting of the company throug… Was like a jubilee,—the children’s… And fusillading hand-claps, with g… And detonations of the older ones, Raged to such tumult of tempestuou…
Old Man Whiskery-Whee-Kum-Wheez… Lives 'way up in the leaves o’ tre… An’ wunst I slipped up-stairs to… In Aunty’s room, while she 'uz aw… An’ I clumbed up in her cushion-c…
He faced his canvas (as a seer who… Pierces the crust of this existenc… And smiled beyond on that his geni… Ere mated with his being. Conscio… Of his high theme alone, he smiled…
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…
Time of crisp and tawny leaves, And of tarnished harvest sheaves, And of dusty grasses—weeds— Thistles, with their tufted seeds Voyaging the Autumn breeze
‘Twas a Funny Little Fellow Of the very purest type, For he had a heart as mellow As an apple over ripe; And the brightest little twinkle
Where are they—the Afterwhiles— Luring us the lengthening miles Of our lives? Where is the dawn With the dew across the lawn Stroked with eager feet the far
I would not trace the hackneyed ph… Of shallow words and empty praise, And prate of 'peace’ till one migh… My foolish pen was drunk with ink. Nor will I here the wish express
They’s a kind o’ _feel_ in the air… When the Chris’mas-times sets in. That’s about as much of a mystery As ever I’ve run ag’in!— Fer instunce, now, whilse I gain…
I woo’d a woman once, But she was sharper than an easter… Tennyson “What may I do to make you glad, To make you glad and free,
While with Ambition’s hectic flam… He wastes the midnight oil, And dreams, high-throned on height… To rest him from his toil,— Death’s Angel, like a vast eclips…
Neglected now is the old guitar And moldering into decay; Fretted with many a rift and scar That the dull dust hides away, While the spider spins a silver st…
'I’m home again, my dear old Room… I’m home again, and happy, too, As, peering through the brightenin… I find myself alone with you: Though brief my stay, nor far away…
Only a dream! Her head is bent Over the keys of the instrument, While her trembling fingers go ast… In the foolish tune she tries to p…
A Old Tramp slep’ in our stable w… An’ The Raggedy Man he caught An’ roust him up, an’ chased him o… Clean out through our back lot! An’ th’ Old Tramp hollered back a…