#AmericanWriters
UNCLE JOHN, he makes me tired; Thinks 'at he’s jest so all—fired Smart, 'at he kin pick up, so, Ever’thing he wants to know. Tried to ketch me up last night,
I DID not know that life could b… I did not know the hours could spe… Till I knew you, and life was swe… The days grew brief with love and… I was a slave a few short days ago…
The world is a snob, and the man w… Is the chap for its money’s worth: And the lust for success causes ha… That are cursing this brave old ea… For it 's fine to go up, and the w…
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…
THOU art the soul of a summer’s… Thou art the breath of the rose. But the summer is fled And the rose is dead Where are they gone, who knows, wh…
I know what the caged bird feels,… When the sun is bright on the upla… When the wind stirs soft through t… And the river flows like a stream… When the first bird sings and the…
WHAT are the things that make li… A star gleam in the night. What hearts us for the coming fray… The dawn tints of the day. What helps to speed the weary mile…
I GREW a rose within a garden fa… And, tending it with more than lov… I thought how, with the glory of i… I should the darkness of my life i… And, watching, ever smiled to see…
THE gray dawn on the mountain top Is slow to pass away. Still lays him by in sluggish drea… The golden God of day. And then a light along the hills,
This is the debt I pay Just for one riotous day, Years of regret and grief, Sorrow without relief. Pay it I will to the end —
A LITTLE bird, with plumage bro… Beside my window flutters down, A moment chirps its little strain, Then taps upon my window—pane, And chirps again, and hops along,
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
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
Anchored IF thro’ the sea of night which h… I could swim out beyond the farthe… Break every barrier of circumstanc… And greet the Sun of sweeter life…
Ah me, it is cold and chill And the fire sobs low in the grate… While the wind rides by on the hil… And the logs crack sharp with hate… And she, she is cold and sad