ALL de night long twell de moon g… Lovin’ I set at huh feet, Den fu’ de long jou’ney back f’om… Ha’d, but de dreams mek it sweet. All de night long twell de break o…

AH, yes, ‘t is sweet still to rem… Though ’t were less painful to for… For while my heart glows like an e… Mine eyes with sorrow’s drops are… And, oh, my heart is aching yet.

Let those who will stride on their… And prick themselves to haste with… Unheeding, as they struggle day by… If flowers be sweet or skies be bl… For me, the lone, cool way by purl…

HIT’S been drizzlin’ an’ been sp… Kin’ o’ techy all day long. I ain’t wet enough fu’ toddy, I’s too damp to raise a song, An’ de case have set me t’inkin’,

DONE are the toils and the weari… Done is the summons of bugle and d… Softly and sweetly the sky overarc… Shelt’ring a land where Rebellion… Dark were the days of the country’…

OH, the poets may sing of their L… And may rave in their rhymes about… But I throw my poetical wings to… And soar in a song to my Lady Lou… A sweet little maid, who is dearer…

OH, I des received a letter f’om… Oh, my; oh, my. She’s my lovely little sweetheart… Oh, my; oh, my. She writes me dat she loves me an’…

In the tents of Akbar Are dole and grief to—day, For the flower of all the Indies Has gone the silent way. In the tents of Akbar

In this old garden, fair, I walk… Heart—charmed with all the beauty… The rich, luxuriant grasses’ cooli… The wall’s environ, ivy—decked and… The waving branches with the wind…

THE night is dewy as a maiden’s m… The skies are bright as are a maid… Soft as a maiden’s breath the wind… Up from the perfumed bosom of the… Like sentinels, the pines stand in…

WHO dat knockin’ at de do’? Why, Ike Johnson, —yes, fu’ sho! Come in, Ike. I’s mighty glad You come down. I t’ought you’s mad

At the golden gate of song Stood I, knocking all day long, But the Angel, calm and cold, Still refused and bade me, ‘Hold.… Then a breath of soft perfume,

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,

In the heavy earth the miner Toiled and laboured day by day, Wrenching from the miser mountain Brilliant treasure where it lay. And the artist worn and weary

Long time ago, we two set out, My soul and I. I know not why, For all our way was dim with doubt… I know not where