#AmericanWriters
THE change has come, and Helen s… Not sleeps; but wakes to greater d… Of wisdom, glory, truth, and light… Than ever blessed her seeking sigh… In this low, long, lethargic night…
IF 'twere fair to suppose That your heart were not taken, That the dew from the rose Petals still were not shaken, I should pluck you,
LITTLE brown face full of smile… And a baby’s guileless wiles, Liza May, Liza May. Eyes a—peeping thro’ the fence With an interest intense,
THE air is dark, the sky is gray, The misty shadows come and go, And here within my dusky room Each chair looks ghostly in the gl… Outside the rain falls cold and sl…
Gray is the palace where she dwell… Grimly the poplars stand There by the window where she sits… My Lady of Castle Grand. There does she bide the livelong d…
Out of my heart, one day, I wrote… With my heart’s blood imbued, Instinct with passion, tremulously… With grief subdued; Breathing a fortitude
TIM Murphy’s gon’ walkin’ wid Ma… O chone! If I was her muther, I’d frown on… O chone! I’m sure its unmutherlike, darin’…
Woman’s sho’ a cur’ous critter, an… She’s a mess o’ funny capahs f’om… Ef you tries to un’erstan’ huh, an… 'D’ ain’t a bit o’ use to try to u… I don’ mean to be complainin’, but…
There is a heaven, for ever, day b… The upward longing of my soul doth… There is a hell, I’m quite as sur… If there were not, where would my…
WHY fades a dream? An iridescent ray Flecked in between the tryst Of night and day. Why fades a dream? —
Come, essay a sprightly measure, Tuned to some light song of pleasu… Maidens, let your brows be crowned As we foot this merry round. From the ground a voice is singing…
GOD has his plans, and what if we With our sight be too blind to see Their full fruition; cannot he, Who made it, solve the mystery? One whom we loved has fall’n aslee…
(Lines on reading ‘Driftwood.’) Driftwood gathered here and there Along the beach of time; Now and then a chip of truth ‘Mid boards and boughs of rhyme;
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…
A KNOCK is at her door, but she… Strange dews have washed the paint… She does not rise, but, ah, this f… And knows that he will find her al… So opens he the door, and with sof…