#AmericanWriters
W’EN de evenin’ shadders Come a—glidin’ down, Fallin’ black an’ heavy Ovah hill an’ town, Ef you listen keerful,
HELLO, ole man, you’re a—gittin’… An’ it beats ole Ned to see the w… 'At the crow’s feet’s a—getherin’… Tho’ it oughtn’t to cause me no su… Fur there’s many a sun 'at you’ve…
Thy tones are silver melted into s… And as I dream I see no walls around, But seem to hear A gondolier
DIS is gospel weathah sho’ — Hills is sawt o’ hazy. Meddahs level ez a flo’ Callin’ to de lazy. Sky all white wif streaks o’ blue,
October is the treasurer of the ye… And all the months pay bounty to h… The fields and orchards still thei… And fill her brimming coffers more… But she, with youthful lavishness,
Come to the pane, draw the curtain… There she is passing, the girl of… See where she walks like a queen i… Weather—defying, calm, placid and… Tripping along with impetuous grac…
A hush is over all the teeming lis… And there is pause, a breath—space… A spirit brave has passed beyond t… And vapors that obscure the sun of… And Ethiopia, with bosom torn,
I have seen full many a sight Born of day or drawn by night: Sunlight on a silver stream, Golden lilies all a—dream, Lofty mountains, bold and proud,
Love hath the wings of the butterf… Oh, clasp him but gently, Pausing and dipping and fluttering… Inconsequently. Stir not his poise with the breath…
Night is for sorrow and dawn is fo… Chasing the troubles that fret and… Darkness for sighing and daylight… Cheery and chaste the strain, hear… All the night through, though I m…
GOO’—BY, Jinks, I got to hump, Got to mek dis pony jump; See dat sun a—goin’ down 'N’ me a—foolin’ hyeah in town! Git up, Suke —go long!
THERE are no beaten paths to Gl… There are no rules to compass grea… Each for himself must cleave a pat… And press his own way forward in t… Smooth is the way to ease and calm…
The November sun invites me, And although the chill wind smites… I will wander to the woodland Where the laden trees await; And with loud and joyful singing
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…
I STOOD by the shore at the dea… As the sun sank flaming red; And the face of the waters that sp… Was as gray as the face of the dea… And I heard the cry of the wanton…