#AmericanWriters
I know a little country place Where still my heart doth linger, And o’er its fields is every grace Lined out by memory’s finger. Back from the lane where poplars g…
I NEVER shall furgit that night… An’ all us youngsters clambered in… To school where we was kep’ at wor… But where that night a spellin’—be… 'Twas one o’ Heaven’s banner nigh…
THE lake’s dark breast Is all unrest, It heaves with a sob and a sigh. Like a tremulous bird, From its slumber stirred,
Men may sing of their Havanas, el… The real or fancied virtues of the… But I worship Nicotina at a diffe… And she sits enthroned in glory in… It ‘s as fragrant as the meadows w…
THE gray dawn on the mountain top Is slow to pass away. Still lays him by in sluggish drea… The golden God of day. And then a light along the hills,
Anchored IF thro’ the sea of night which h… I could swim out beyond the farthe… Break every barrier of circumstanc… And greet the Sun of sweeter life…
HELLO, ole man, you’re a—gittin’… An’ it beats ole Ned to see the w… 'At the crow’s feet’s a—getherin’… Tho’ it oughtn’t to cause me no su… Fur there’s many a sun 'at you’ve…
LITTLE brown face full of smile… And a baby’s guileless wiles, Liza May, Liza May. Eyes a—peeping thro’ the fence With an interest intense,
Just whistle a bit, if the day be… And the sky be overcast: If mute be the voice of the piping… Why, pipe your own small blast. And it’s wonderful how o’er the gr…
Heart of my heart, the day is chil… The mist hangs low o’er the wooded… The soft white mist and the heavy… The sun and the face of heaven shr… The birds are thick in the drippin…
ON THE RECEIPT OF A F… To me, like hauntings of a vagrant… From some far forest which I once… The perfume of this flower of vers… Tho’ seemingly soul—blossoms faint…
By rugged ways and thro’ the night We struggle blindly toward the lig… And groping, stumbling, ever pray For sight of long delaying day. The cruel thorns beside the road
October is the treasurer of the ye… And all the months pay bounty to h… The fields and orchards still thei… And fill her brimming coffers more… But she, with youthful lavishness,
De trees is bendin’ in de sto’m, De rain done hid de mountain’s fo’… I ‘s ’lone an’ in distress. But listen, dah 's a voice I hyea… A—sayin’ to me, loud an’ cleah,
‘THOU art a fool,’ said my head… ‘Indeed, the greatest of fools tho… To be led astray by the trick of a… By a smiling face or a ribbon smar… And my heart was in sore distress.
