I quarrel not with destiny, But make the best of everything– The best is good enough for me. Leave discontent alone, and she Will shut her mouth and let you si…

There’s a habit I have nurtured, From the sentimental time When my life was like a story, And my heart a happy rhyme,— Of clipping from the paper,

The stars are falling, and the sky Is like a field of faded flowers; The winds on weary wings go by; The moon hides, and the tempest lo… And still through every clime and…

A Old Tramp slep’ in our stable w… An’ The Raggedy Man he caught An’ roust him up, an’ chased him o… Clean out through our back lot! An’ th’ Old Tramp hollered back a…

They rode right out of the morning… A glimmering, glittering cavalcade Of knights and ladies and every on… In princely sheen arrayed; And the king of them all, O he ro…

A dark, tempestuous night; the sta… With shrouds of fog; an inky, jet-… The firmament; and where the moon… An hour agone seems like the darke… The weird wind—furious at its demo…

‘The voice of One hath spoken, And the bended reed is bruised— The golden bowl is broken, And the silver cord is loosed.’ Over the eyes of gladness

Last night—how deep the darkness w… And well I knew its depths, becau… I waded it from shore to shore, Thinking to reach the light no mor… She would not even touch my hand—-…

Who am I but the Frog—the Frog! My realm is the dark bayou, And my throne is the muddy and mos… That the poison-vine clings to— And the blacksnakes slide in the s…

'Mylo Jones’s wife’ was all I heerd, mighty near, last Fall— Visitun relations down T’other side of Morgantown! Mylo Jones’s wife she does

Gracie wuz allus a _careless_ tot; But Gracie dearly loved her doll, An’ played wiv it on the winder-si… 'Way up-stairs, when she ought to… An’ her muvver _telled_ her so an’…

Hi and whoop-hooray, boys! Sing a song of cheer! Here’s a holiday, boys, Lasting half a year! Round the world, and half is

With a sweeter voice than birds Dare to twitter in their sleep, Pipe for me a tune of words, Till my dancing fancies leap Into freedom vaster far

The Old Hay-mow’s the place to pl… Fer boys, when it’s a rainy day! I good-'eal ruther be up there Than down in town, er anywhere! When I play in our stable-loft,

No song is mine of Arab steed— My courser is of nobler blood, And cleaner limb and fleeter speed… And greater strength and hardihood Than ever cantered wild and free