OH, the poets may sing of their L… And may rave in their rhymes about… But I throw my poetical wings to… And soar in a song to my Lady Lou… A sweet little maid, who is dearer…

PHYLLIS, ah, Phyllis, my life… Few are my years, but my griefs ar… Ever to youth should each day be a… Warm wind and rose—breath and diam… Phyllis, ah, Phyllis, my life is…

STANDIN’ at de winder, Feelin’ kind o’ glum, Listenin’ to de raindrops Play de kettle drum, Lookin’ crost de medders

THE little bird sits in the nest… A shy, soft song to the morning li… And it flutters a little and prune… The song is halting and poor and b… And the fluttering wings scarce st…

I GREW a rose within a garden fa… And, tending it with more than lov… I thought how, with the glory of i… I should the darkness of my life i… And, watching, ever smiled to see…

OH, dere’s lots o’ keer an’ troub… In dis world to swaller down; An’ ol’ Sorrer’s purty lively In her way o’ gittin’ roun’. Yet dere’s times when I furgit 'e…

Break me my bounds, and let me fly To regions vast of boundless sky; Nor I, like piteous Daphne, be Root—bound. Ah, no! I would be fr… As yon same bird that in its fligh…

In the forenoon’s restful quiet, When the boys are off at school, When the window lights are shaded And the chimney—corner cool, Then the old man seeks his armchai…

You 'll be wonderin’ whut ‘s de re… I ’s a grinnin’ all de time, An’ I guess you t’ink my sperits Mus’ be feelin’ mighty prime. Well, I 'fess up, I is tickled

OUTSIDE the rain upon the stree… The sky all grim of hue, Inside, the music—painful sweet, And yet I heard but you As is a thrilling violin,

O li’l’ lamb out in de col’, De Mastah call you to de fol’, O li’l’ lamb! He hyeah you bleatin’ on de hill; Come hyeah an’ keep yo’ mou’nin’ s…

OH, de grubbin’—hoe’s a—rustin’ i… An’ de plow’s a—tumblin’ down in d… While de whippo’will’s a—wailin’ l… When his stubbo’n hea’t is tryin’… In de furrers whah de co’n was all…

THEN He loved her, and through many yea… Had paid his fair devoted court, Until she wearied, and with sneers Turned all his ardent love to spor…

(Lines on reading ‘Driftwood.’) Driftwood gathered here and there Along the beach of time; Now and then a chip of truth ‘Mid boards and boughs of rhyme;

TUSKEGEE, ALA., APRIL 22,… Not to the midnight of the gloomy… Do we revert to—day; we look upon The golden present and the future… Whose vistas show us visions of th…