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…

Dey is times in life when Nature Seems to slip a cog an’ go, Jes’ a—rattlin’ down creation, Lak an ocean’s overflow; When de worl’ jes’ stahts a—spinni…

I done got 'uligion, honey, an’ I… Evahthing I see erbout me ’s jes’… An’ it seems lak I do’ want to do… But jes’ run an’ tell de neighbour… I done shuk my fis’ at Satan, an’…

Come on walkin’ wid me, Lucy; 't… Wen de sunshine 's shoutin’ glory… An’ de little Johnny—Jump—Ups 's… Den a—lookin’ roun’ to ax each oth… Don’ you hyeah dem cows a—mooin’?…

THE wind is out in its rage to—ni… And your father is far at sea. The rime on the window is hard and… But dear, you are near to me. Heave ho, weave low,

If thro’ the sea of night which here summons me, I could swim out beyond the farthest star, Break every barrier of circumstanc…

Lucy done gone back on me, Dat’s de way wif life. Evaht’ing was movin’ free, T’ought I had my wife. Den some dahky comes along,

He was a poet who wrote clever ver… And folks said he had a fine poeti… But his father, a practical farmer… Of letting the strength of his arm… He called on his sweetheart each…

A DOWN the west a golden glow Sinks burning in the sea, And all the dreams of long ago Come flooding back to me. The past has writ a story strange

Tek a cool night, good an’ cleah, Skiff o’ snow upon de groun’; Jes’ 'bout fall—time o’ de yeah W’en de leaves is dry an brown; Tek a dog an’ tek a axe,

By the pool that I see in my drea… I have sat with you time and again… And listened beneath the dank leav… To the sibilant sound of the rain. And the pool, it is silvery bright…

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 a small and lonely cabin out of… Sat an old man, bent and feeble, d… And beside him on the table, batte… Lay a banjo, droning forth this re… 'Night is closing in upon us, frie…

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,

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…