#Americans #Blacks #XIXCentury
He had his dream, and all through… Worked up to it through toil and s… Afloat fore’er before his eyes, It colored for him all his skies: The storm—cloud dark
(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.
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
SHE wrapped her soul in a lace of… With a prime deceit to pin it; And I thought I was gaining a fea… So I staked my soul to win it. We wed and parted on her complaint…
Wintah, summah, snow er shine, Hit’s all de same to me, Ef only I kin call you mine, An’ keep you by my knee. Ha’dship, frolic, grief er caih,
WHAT’S the use o’ folks a—frowni… When the way’s a little rough? Frowns lay out the road fur smilin… You’ll be wrinkled soon enough. What’s the use?
This is to—day, a golden summer’s… And yet—and yet My vengeful soul will not forget The past, forever now forgot, you… From that half height where I had…
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…
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…
Out in the sky the great dark clou… I look far out into the pregnant n… Where I can hear the solemn boomi… And catch the gleaming of a random… That tells me that the ship I see…
Back to the breast of thy mother, Child of the earth! E’en her caress can not smother What thou hast done. Follow the trail of the westering…
Oh to have you in May, To talk with you under the trees, Dreaming throughout the day, Drinking the wine—like breeze, Oh it were sweet to think
When summer time has come, and all The world is in the magic thrall Of perfumed airs that lull each se… To fits of drowsy indolence; When skies are deepest blue above,
Oh for the breath of the briny dee… And the tug of the bellying sail, With the sea—gull’s cry across the… And a passing boatman’s hail. For, be she fierce or be she gay,
I 's boun’ to see my gal to—night— Oh, lone de way, my dearie! De moon ain’t out, de stars ain’t… Oh, lone de way, my dearie! Dis hoss o’ mine is pow’ful slow,
