#AmericanWriters
The winds have talked with him con… The trees have whispered to him; a… Hath held him gently as a mother m… And taught him all sad tones of me… The mountains have bowed to him; a…
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 am tired of this! Nothing else but loving! Nothing else but kiss and kiss, Coo, and turtle-doving! Can’t you change the order some?
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…
A barefoot boy! I mark him at his… For May is here once more, and so… His dusty trousers, rolled half to… And his bare ankles grimy, too, as… Cross-hatchings of the nettle, in…
Noey Bixler ketched him, and fetc… When he’s ist a little teenty-ween… 'Bout as big as little pups, an’ t… An’ Pa gived Noey fifty cents, wh… Nen he buyed a chain fer him, an’…
There! little girl; don’t cry! They have broken your doll, I kno… And your tea-set blue, And your play-house, too, Are things of the long ago;
Wasn’t it pleasant, O brother min… In those old days of the lost suns… Of youth—when the Saturday’s chor… And the 'Sunday’s wood’ in the ki… And we went visiting, ‘me and you,…
DEAD! my wayward boy—_my own_— Not _the Law’s!_ but _mine_—the g… God’s free gift to me alone, Sanctified by motherhood. ‘Bad,’ you say: Well, who is not?
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,
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
The orchard lands of Long Ago! O drowsy winds, awake, and blow The snowy blossoms back to me, And all the buds that used to be! Blow back along the grassy ways
With A Serious Conclusion Crowd about me, little children— Come and cluster 'round my knee While I tell a little story That happened once with me.
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…
'Twas the height of the fete when… And quietly stole to the terrace a… Where, pale as the lovers that eve… The moon it … The sight of the stars and the moo…