#Americans
The shades of night were falling f… As through an Eastern village pas… A youth who bore, through dust and… A stencil-plate, that read complet… CLEAN PAINT, OIL CLOT…
(TABLE MOUNTAIN, 1870) Which I wish to remark, And my language is plain, That for ways that are dark And for tricks that are vain,
I’m sitting alone by the fire, Dressed just as I came from the d… In a robe even YOU would admire,… It cost a cool thousand in France… I’m be-diamonded out of all reason…
(AN IDYL OF THE BALUSTER… BOBBY, aetat. 3 1/2. JOHNNY,… BOBBY Do you know why they’ve put us in… Up in the attic, close against the…
Over the chimney the night-wind sa… And chanted a melody no one knew; And the Woman stopped, as her bab… And thought of the one she had lon… And said, as her teardrops back sh…
(SIMPSON’S BAR, 1858) So you’ve kem 'yer agen, And one answer won’t do? Well, of all the derned men That I’ve struck, it is you.
(MR. INTERVIEWER INTER… Know me next time when you see me,… Oh, I mean YOU, old figger-head,… Take out your pensivil, d—n you; s… Any complaints to make? Lots of ‘…
Bells of the Past, whose long-for… Still fills the wide expanse, Tingeing the sober twilight of the… With color and romance: I hear your call, and see the sun…
(SIERRAS) We checked our pace, the red road… We heard the troubled flow Of the dark olive depths of pines… A thousand feet below.
I’m a gay tra, la, la, With my fal, lal, la, la, And my bright— And my light— Tra, la, le. [Repeat.]
It was noon by the sun; we had fin… And was passin’ remarks goin’ back… Jones was countin’ his chips, Smi… Of ideas that a 'straight’ should… When Johnson of Elko came gallopi…
Know I not whom thou mayst be Carved upon this olive-tree,— ‘Manuela of La Torre,’— For around on broken walls Summer sun and spring rain falls,
No life in earth, or air, or sky; The sunbeams, broken silently, On the bared rocks around me lie,- Cold rocks with half-warmed lichen… And scales of moss; and scarce a y…
Not ours, where battle smoke upcur… And battle dews lie wet, To meet the charge that treason hu… By sword and bayonet. Not ours to guide the fatal scythe
This is the reed the dead musician… With tuneful magic in its sheath s… The prompt allegro of its music st… Its melodies unbidden. But who shall finish the unfinishe…