#Americans #XIXCentury #XXCentury
When we hear Uncle Sidney tell About the long-ago An’ old, old friends he loved so w… When _he_ was young—My-oh!— Us childern all wish _we’d 'a’_ bi…
Last night—how deep the darkness w… And well I knew its depths, becau… I waded it from shore to shore, Thinking to reach the light no mor… She would not even touch my hand—-…
'Write me a rhyme of the present t… And the poet took his pen And wrote such lines as the miser… Hide in the hearts of men. He grew enthused, as the poets use…
It tossed its head at the wooing b… And the sun, like a bashful swain, Beamed on it through the waving tr… With a passion all in vain,— For my rose laughed in a crimson g…
But yesterday I looked away O’er happy lands, where sunshine l… In golden blots, Inlaid with spots
Hereafter! O we need not waste Our smiles or tears, whatever befa… No happiness but holds a taste Of something sweeter, after all;— No depth of agony but feels
When Little Claude was naughty wu… At dinner-time, an’ said He won’t say '_Thank you_' to his… She maked him go to bed An’ stay two hours an’ not git up,…
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…
What intuition named thee?—Throug… Of the awed soul came the command… Into the mother-heart, foretelling… Should palpitate with his whose ra… Sing on while daisies bloom and la…
'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…
A fantasy that came to me As wild and wantonly designed As ever any dream might be Unraveled from a madman’s mind,— A tangle-work of tissue, wrought
_The Child-World—long and long si… A Fairy Paradise!— How always fair it was and fresh a… How every affluent hour heaped hea… With treasures of surprise!
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.
There’s a space for good to bloom… Every heart of man or woman,— And however wild or human, Or however brimmed with gall, Never heart may beat without it;
The beauty of her hair bewilders m… Pouring adown the brow, its cloven… Swirling about the ears on either… And storming round the neck tumult… Or like the lights of old antiquit…