When August days are hot an’ dry, When burning copper is the sky, I ‘d rather fish than feast or fly In airy realms serene and high. I ’d take a suit not made for look…

W’EN de clouds is hangin’ heavy i… An’ de win’s 's a—taihin’ moughty… I don’ go a—sighin’ all erlong de… I des’ wo’k a—waitin’ fu’ de close… Case I knows w’en evenin’ draps h…

(From a Westerner’s Point of Vie… No matter what you call it, Whether genius, or art, He sings the simple songs that com… The closest to your heart.

SWEETEST of the flowers a—bloo… In the fragrant vernal days Is the Lily of the Valley With its soft, retiring ways. Well, you chose this humble blosso…

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…

Whose little lady is you, chile, Whose little gal is you? What’s de use o’ kiver’n up yo’ fa… Chile, dat ain’t de way to do. Lemme see yo’ little eyes,

Whut dat you whisperin’ keepin’ f’… Don’t shut me out ‘cause I ’s ol’… Somep’n’s gone wrong dat 's a—caus… Don’t be afeared to tell—Whut! ma… Somebody brung de news early to—da…

ON the wide veranda white, In the purple failing light, Sits the master while the sun is l… And his dreamy thoughts are drowne… In the softly flowing sound

I GREW a rose once more to pleas… All things to aid it —dew, sun, wi… Were kindly; and to shield it from… I fenced it safely in with gratefu… No other hand than mine shall pluc…

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…

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…

AH, Nora, my Nora, the light fad… While Night like a spirit steals… The thrash from his tree where he… No longer his music in ecstasy tri… Then, Nora, be near me; thy prese…

How’s a man to write a sonnet, can… How’s he going to weave the dim, p… When a—toddling on the floor Is the muse he must adore, And this muse he loves, not wisely…

DOLLY sits a—quilting by her mot… Gracious, how my pulses throb, how… While I note her dainty waist and… As she matches this and that, she… And I long to tell her Life’s a q…