#AmericanWriters
AH, I have changed, I do not kno… Why lonely hours affect me so. In days of yore, this were not won… No loneliness my soul could daunt. For me too serious for my age,
A DOWN the west a golden glow Sinks burning in the sea, And all the dreams of long ago Come flooding back to me. The past has writ a story strange
I THINK that though the clouds… That though the waves dash o’er th… Yet after while the light will com… And in calm waters safe at home The bark will anchor.
Hyeah dat singin’ in de medders Whaih de folks is mekin’ hay? Wo’k is pretty middlin’ heavy Fu’ a man to be so gay. You kin tell dey 's somep’n specia…
Long time ago, we two set out, My soul and I. I know not why, For all our way was dim with doubt… I know not where
THE wind is out in its rage to—ni… And your father is far at sea. The rime on the window is hard and… But dear, you are near to me. Heave ho, weave low,
Oh, the day has set me dreaming In a strange, half solemn way Of the feelings I experienced On another long past day,— Of the way my heart made music
THE river sleeps beneath the sky, And clasps the shadows to its brea… The crescent moon shines dim on hi… And in the lately radiant west The gold is fading into gray.
How sweet the music sounded That summer long ago, When you were by my side, love, To list its gentle flow. I saw your eyes a—shining,
When Phyllis sighs and from her e… The light dies out; my soul replie… With misery of deep—drawn breath, E’en as it were at war with death. When Phyllis smiles, her glance b…
YOU kin talk about yer anthems An’ yer arias an’ sich, An’ yer modern choir—singin’ That you think so awful rich; But you orter heerd us youngsters
Little brown baby wif spa’klin’ ey… Come to yo’ pappy an’ set on his k… What you been doin’, suh —makin’ s… Look at dat bib —you’s es du’ty ez… Look at dat mouf —dat’s merlasses,…
Come when the nights are bright wi… Or when the moon is mellow; Come when the sun his golden bars Drops on the hay—field yellow. Come in the twilight soft and gray…
THERE’s a memory keeps a-runnin’ Through my weary head to-night, An’ I see a picture dancin’ In the fire-flames’ ruddy-light; 'Tis the picture of an orchard
Storm and strife and stress, Lost in a wilderness, Groping to find a way, Forth to the haunts of day Sudden a vista peeps,