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…

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?

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,…

Settin’ round the stove, last nigh… Down at Wess’s store, was me And Mart Strimples, Tunk, and Wh… And Doc Bills, and two er three Fellers o’ the Mudsock tribe

The touches of her hands are like… Of velvet snowflakes; like the tou… The peach just brushes 'gainst the… The flossy fondlings of the thistl… Caught in the crinkle of a leaf of…

‘O Printerman of sallow face, And look of absent guile, Is it the ’copy’ on your 'case’ That causes you to smile? Or is it some old treasure scrap

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’

He was jes a plain ever’-day, all-… Consumpted-Iookin’—but la! The jokeiest, wittiest, story-tell… Feller you ever saw! Worked at jes coarse work, but you…

Thou drowsy god, whose blurred eye… Muse on me—, drifting out upon thy… I lave my soul as in enchanted str… Where revelling satyrs pipe along… And tipsy with the melody they dri…

Friends, my heart is half aweary Of its happiness to-night: Though your songs are gay and chee… And your spirits feather-light, There’s a ghostly music haunting

Mellow hazes, lowly trailing Over wood and meadow, veiling Somber skies, with wildfowl sailin… Sailor-like to foreign lands; And the north-wind overleaping

O heart of mine, we shouldn’t Worry so! What we’ve missed of calm we could… Have, you know! What we’ve met of stormy pain,

When Autumn shakes the rambo-tree… It’s a long, sweet way across the… The bird sings low as the bumble-b… It’s a long, sweet way across the… The poor shote-pig he says, says h…

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