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…

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 am the mother of sorrows, I am the ender of grief; I am the bud and the blossom, I am the late—falling leaf. I am thy priest and thy poet,

Dear Miss Lucy: I been t’inkin’… But dis writin’ 's mighty tejous,… But I 's got a little lesure, so… Fu’ to let you know my feelin’s si… I ‘s right well, I ’s glad to tel…

If I could but forget The fullness of those first sweet… When you burst sun—like thro’ the… Of unacquaintance, on my sight, And made the wet, gray day seem br…

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…

GOODNIGHT, my love, for I hav… In walking dreams, until my soul i… Is lost in passion’s wide and shor… Where, like a ship unruddered, it… Hither and thither at the wild wav…

W’EN you full o’ worry 'Bout yo’ wo’k an’ sich, W’en you kind o’ bothered Case you can’t get rich, An’ yo’ neighboh p’ospah

DEEP in my heart that aches with… And strives with plenitude of bitt… There lives a thought that clamors… And spends its undelivered force i… What boots it that some other may…

A little dreaming by the way, A little toiling day by day; A little pain, a little strife, A little joy,—and that is life. A little short—lived summer’s morn…

He sang of life, serenely sweet, With, now and then, a deeper note. From some high peak, nigh yet remo… He voiced the world’s absorbing be… He sang of love when earth was you…

It may be misery not to sing at al… And to go silent through the brimm… It may be misery never to be loved… But deeper griefs than these beset… To sing the perfect song,

Over the hills and the valleys of… Slowly I take my way. Life is the night with its dream—v… Death is the waking at day. Down thro’ the dales and the bower…

I WAS not; now I am —a few days… I shall not be; I fain would look… And after, but can neither do; som… Or lack of power says 'no’ to all… I stand upon a wide and sunless pl…

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…