#AmericanWriters
A dark, tempestuous night; the sta… With shrouds of fog; an inky, jet-… The firmament; and where the moon… An hour agone seems like the darke… The weird wind—furious at its demo…
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’…
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.
O I will walk with you, my lad, w… You’ll have me, too, the side o’ y… No care for where the road you tak… It can but be a joyful ja’nt whils… The road you take’s the path o’ lo…
Where are they?—the friends of my… The clear, laughing eyes looking b… And the warm, chubby fingers my pa… As when we raced over Pink pastures of clover,
All hope of rest withdrawn me?— What dread command hath put This awful curse upon me— The curse of the wandering foot! Forward and backward and thither,
Who am I but the Frog—the Frog! My realm is the dark bayou, And my throne is the muddy and mos… That the poison-vine clings to— And the blacksnakes slide in the s…
The dawn of the day was dreary, And the lowering clouds o’erhead Wept in a silent sorrow Where the sweet sunshine lay dead; And a wind came out of the eastwar…
'I have twankled the strings of th… I have burnished the meteor’s mail… I have bridled the wind When he whinnied and whined With a bunch of stars tied to his…
First she come to our house, Tommy run and hid; And Emily and Bob and me We cried jus’ like we did When Mother died,—and we all said
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…
With a sweeter voice than birds Dare to twitter in their sleep, Pipe for me a tune of words, Till my dancing fancies leap Into freedom vaster far
A lover said, ‘O Maiden, love me… For I must go away: And should ANOTHER ever come t… Of love—What WILL you say?’ And she let fall a royal robe of h…
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…
Ho! green fields and running brook… Knotted strings and fishing-hooks Of the truant, stealing down Weedy backways of the town. Where the sunshine overlooks,