#AmericanWriters
Prate, ye who will, of so-called c… The land of stoves and sunshine is… I’ve done the grand for fourteen m… And I’ve learned a heap of learni… And the biggest bit of wisdom I’v…
Little Miss Brag has much to say To the rich little lady from over… And the rich little lady puts out… As she looks at her own white, dai… And wishes that she could wear a g…
Last night, whiles that the curfew… I heard a moder to her dearie sing… “Lollyby, lolly, lollyby.” And presently that chylde did ceas… And on his moder’s breast did fall…
Strange that the city thoroughfare… Noisy and bustling all the day, Should with the night renounce its… And lend itself to children’s play… Oh, girls are girls, and boys are…
As I was going to Bethlehem-town, Upon the earth I cast me down All underneath a little tree That whispered in this wise to me: ‘Oh, I shall stand on Calvary
As beats the sun from mountain cre… With 'pretty, pretty’, Cometh the partridge from her nest… The flowers threw kisses sweet to… (For all the flowers that bloomed…
Now lithe and listen, gentles all, Now lithe ye all and hark Unto a ballad I shall sing About Buena Park. Of all the wonders happening there
Syn that you, Chloe, to your mode… Maketh all ye yonge bacheloures fu… Like as a lyttel deere you ben y-h… Whenas come lovers with theyre pit… Sothly it ben faire to give up you…
When I was a boy at college, Filling up with classic knowledge, Frequently I wondered why Old Professor Demas Bently Used to praise so eloquently
'Tis the time of the year’s sundow… Hangs on the maple bough; And June is the faded flower of a… The thin hedge hides not a singer… Yet rich am I; for my treasures b…
Lofty and enduring is the monument… Come, tempests, with your bitterne… And thou, corrosive blasts of time… Thy buffets and thy rage are unava… I shall not altogether die; by far…
(FOR THE FELLOWSHIP CLU Lyman and Frederick and Jim, one… Set out in a great big ship— Steamed to the ocean adown the bay Out of a New York slip.
Over the hills and far away, A little boy steals from his morni… And under the blossoming apple-tre… He lies and he dreams of the thing… Of battles fought and of victories…
Good editor Dana—God bless him, w… Will soon be afloat on the main, Will be steaming away Through the mist and the spray To the sensuous climate of Spain.
