#Americans #Blacks #XIXCentury
I AM no priest of crooks nor cree… For human wants and human needs Are more to me than prophets’ deed… And human tears and human cares Affect me more than human prayers.
A LOVER whom duty called over t… With himself communed: ‘Will my l… If left to herself? Had I better… Some friend to watch over her, goo… But my friend might fail in my nee…
I KNOW a man With face of tan, But who is ever kind; Whom girls and boys Leave games and toys
She sang, and I listened the whol… (It was sweet, so sweet, the singi… The stars were out and the moon it… From a wee soft glimmer way out in… To a bird thro’ the heavens wingin…
DEY was oncet a awful quoil 'twix… De pot was des a—bilin’ an’ de ski… Dey slurred each othah’s colah an’… W’ile de coal—oil can des gu—gled,… De pot, hit called de skillet des…
Dey 's a so’t o’ threatenin’ feeli… An’ I 's feelin’ kin’ o’ squeamis… I 's a—walkin’ 'roun’ a—lookin’ at… An’ a—measurin’ dey thickness an’… Fu’ dey 's somep’n mighty 'spiciou…
I sit upon the old sea wall, And watch the shimmering sea, Where soft and white the moonbeams… Till, in a fantasy, Some pure white maiden’s funeral p…
Pray, what can dreams avail To make love or to mar? The child within the cradle rail Lies dreaming of the star. But is the star by this beguiled
(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.
OH, dere’s lots o’ keer an’ troub… In dis world to swaller down; An’ ol’ Sorrer’s purty lively In her way o’ gittin’ roun’. Yet dere’s times when I furgit 'e…
PLACE this bunch of mignonette In her cold, dead hand; When the golden sun is set, Where the poplars stand, Bury her from sun and day,
A life was mine full of the close… Of many—voiced affairs. The world… Behind me, ever rolled a pregnant… A present came equipped with lore… Art, science, letters, in their tu…
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…
The sun hath shed its kindly light… Our harvesting is gladly o’er Our fields have felt no killing bl… Our bins are filled with goodly st… From pestilence, fire, flood, and…
Our good knight, Ted, girds his b… (And he wields it well, I ween); He 's on his steed, and away has g… To the fight for king and queen. What tho’ no edge the broadsword h…
