#AmericanWriters
Oh, summer has clothed the earth In a cloak from the loom of the su… And a mantle, too, of the skies’ s… And a belt where the rivers run. And now for the kiss of the wind,
LET me close the eyes of my soul That I may not see What stands between thee and me. Let me shut the ears of my heart That I may not hear
De trees is bendin’ in de sto’m, De rain done hid de mountain’s fo’… I ‘s ’lone an’ in distress. But listen, dah 's a voice I hyea… A—sayin’ to me, loud an’ cleah,
Thou arrant robber, Death! Couldst thou not find Some lesser one than he To rob of breath,— Some poorer mind
Folks is talkin’ ‘bout de money, ’… All de time de season 's changin’… An’ dey 's wond’rin’ 'bout de meta… While de price o’ coal is risin’ a… Some folks says dat gold ’s de onl…
Caught Susanner whistlin’; well, It’s most nigh too good to tell. ‘Twould ’a’ b’en too good to see Ef it had n’t b’en fur me, Comin’ up so soft an’ sly
'Twas the apple that in Eden Caused our father’s primal fall; And the Trojan War, remember — 'Twas an apple caused it all. So for weeks I’ve hesitated,
TELL your love where the roses b… And the hearts of the lilies quive… Not in the city’s gleam and glow, But down by a half—sunned river. Not in the crowded ball—room’s gla…
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
I has hyeahd o’ people dancin’ an’… An’ I ‘s been ’roun’ lots of otha… But of all de whistlin’ da’kies da… De whistlin’est I evah seed was o… In de kitchen er de stable, in de…
W’EN us fellers stomp around, mak… Gramma says, 'There’s certain tim… W’en they need a shingle or the so… She says 'we’re a—itchin’ for a ri… An’ she says, 'Now thes you wait,
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,
I STOOD by the shore at the dea… As the sun sank flaming red; And the face of the waters that sp… Was as gray as the face of the dea… And I heard the cry of the wanton…
UNDERNEATH the autumn sky, Haltingly, the lines go by. Ah, would steps were blithe and ga… As when first they marched away, Smile on lip and curl on brow,
MY cot was down by a cypress grov… And I sat by my window the whole… And heard well up from the deep da… A mocking—bird’s passionate song. And I thought of myself so sad an…