#AmericanWriters
A sweet plaintive song did I hear… And I fancied that she was the si… May emotions as pure, as that song… Be the worst that the future shall…
Here, where the lonely hooting owl Sends forth his midnight moans, Fierce wolves shall o’er my carc… Or buzzards pick my bones. No fellow-man shall learn my fate,
MY childhood’s home I see again, And sadden with the view; And still, as memory crowds my bra… There’s pleasure in it, too. O memory! thou midway world
You are young, and I am older; You are hopeful, I am not— Enjoy life, ere it grow colder— Pluck the roses ere they rot. Teach your beau to heed the lay—
My childhood’s home I see again, And sadden with the view; And still, as memory crowds my bra… There’s pleasure in it too. O Memory! thou midway world
In eighteen sixty three, with pomp… and mighty swell, Me and Jeff’s Confederacy, went forth to sack Phil-del, The Yankees the got arter us, and
A wild-bear chace, didst never see… Then hast thou lived in vain. Thy richest bump of glorious glee, Lies desert in thy brain. When first my father settled here,
Abraham Lincoln, His hand and pen: He will be good but God knows When.
