Out of the sunshine and out of the… Out of the dust of the grimy stree… A song fluttered down in the form… And it bore me a message, the one… Ah, I was toiling, and oh, I was…

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,

NOT o’er thy dust let there be sp… The gush of maudlin sentiment; Such drift as that is not for thee… Whose life and deeds and songs agr… Sublime in their simplicity.

A BLUE—BELL springs upon the l… A lark sits singing in the hedge; Sweet perfumes scent the balmy air… And life is brimming everywhere. What lark and breeze and bluebird…

HE scribbles some in prose and ve… And now and then he prints it; He paints a little, —gathers some Of Nature’s gold and mints it. He plays a little, sings a song,

I BE’N down in ole Kentucky Fur a week er two, an’ say, 'T wuz ez hard ez breakin’ oxen Fur to tear myse’f away. Allus argerin’ 'bout fren’ship

We is gathahed hyeah, my brothahs, In dis howlin’ wildaness, Fu’ to speak some words of comfo’t To each othah in distress. An’ we chooses fu’ ouah subjic’

AH, Nora, my Nora, the light fad… While Night like a spirit steals… The thrash from his tree where he… No longer his music in ecstasy tri… Then, Nora, be near me; thy prese…

SHE wrapped her soul in a lace of… With a prime deceit to pin it; And I thought I was gaining a fea… So I staked my soul to win it. We wed and parted on her complaint…

Heart of my heart, the day is chil… The mist hangs low o’er the wooded… The soft white mist and the heavy… The sun and the face of heaven shr… The birds are thick in the drippin…

Air a—gittin’ cool an’ coolah, Frost a—comin’ in de night, Hicka’ nuts an’ wa’nuts fallin’, Possum keepin’ out o’ sight. Tu’key struttin’ in de ba’nya’d,

W’EN de evenin’ shadders Come a—glidin’ down, Fallin’ black an’ heavy Ovah hill an’ town, Ef you listen keerful,

Slow de night 's a—fallin’, An’ I hyeah de callin, Out erpon de lonesome hill; Soun’ is moughty dreary, Solemn—lak an’ skeery,

By Mystic’s banks I held my dream… (I held my fishing rod as well,) The vision was of dace and bream, A fruitless vision, sooth to tell. But round about the sylvan dell

Say a mass for my soul’s repose, m… Say a mass for my soul’s repose,… Lovingly lived we, the sons of one… Mine was the sin, but I pray you… Dark were her eyes as the sloe and…