#AmericanWriters
So lone I stood, the very trees s… In conference with themselves.—In… Seemed everything;—the summer sple… The sight,—magnificence! A babe’s life might not lighter fa…
I saw a man—and envied him beside— Because of this world’s goods he h… But even as I envied him, he died… And left me envious of him no more… I saw another man—and envied still…
1 Our hired girl, she’s 'Liza… 2 An’ she can cook best thin… 3 She ist puts dough in our pi… 4 An’ pours in somepin’ 'at’… 5 An’ nen she salts it all on…
He called her in from me and shut… And she so loved the sunshine and… She loved them even better yet tha… That ne’er knew dearth of them—my… Nature had nursed me in her lap in…
The Hoosier Folk-Child—all unsun… Unlettered all of mind and tongue; Unmastered, unmolested—made Most wholly frank and unafraid: Untaught of any school—unvexed
DAWN As though a gipsy maiden with dim… Sat crooning by the roadside of th… So, Autumn, in thy strangeness, t… To read dark fortunes for us from…
SONG [W.S.] With a hey! and a hi! and a hey-ho… O the shepherd lad He is ne’er so glad
I have jest about decided It 'ud keep a _town-boy_ hoppin’ Fer to work all winter, choppin’ Fer a’ old fire-place, like _I_ d… Lawz! them old times wuz contrairy…
Say farewell, and let me go; Shatter every vow! All the future can bestow Will be welcome now! And if this fair hand I touch
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…
Dexery-tethery! down in the dike, Under the ooze and the slime, Nestles the wraith of a reticent… Blubbering bubbles of rhyme: Though the reeds touch him and tic…
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…
Alone they walked—their fingers kn… And swaying listlessly as might a… Wherein Dan Cupid dangled in the… Of some sun-flooded afternoon of… Within the clover-fields the tickl…
O the drum! There is some Intonation in thy grum Monotony of utterance that strikes… As we hear
Sometimes I think 'at Parents doe… Things ist about as bad as _us_— Wite 'fore our vurry eyes, at that… Fer one time Pa he scold’ my Ma 'Cause he can’t find his hat;