#AmericanWriters
‘My grandfather Squeers,’ said Th… As he solemnly lighted his pipe an… ‘The most indestructible man, for… And the grandest on earth, was my… ’He said, when he rounded his thre…
Dear Lord, to Thee my knee is ben… Give me content— Full-pleasured with what comes to… What e’er it be: An humble roof—a frugal board,
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,
He was a Dreamer of the Days: Indolent as a lazy breeze Of midsummer, in idlest ways Lolling about in the shade of tree… The farmer turned—as he passed him…
Pap’s got his patent-right, and ri… But where’s the peace and comfort… Le’s go a-visitin’ back to Griggs… Back where we ust to be so happy a… The likes of us a-livin’ here! It…
Neglected now is the old guitar And moldering into decay; Fretted with many a rift and scar That the dull dust hides away, While the spider spins a silver st…
For the sake of guilty conscience,… time Of the clockworks of my nature, I… A weak and sinful creature, as reg… The last five years and better. I…
Las’ time 'at Uncle Sidney come, He bringed a watermelon home— An’ half the boys in town, Come taggin’ after him.—An’ he Says, when we et it,—_'Gracious m…
We must get home—for we have been… So long it seems forever and a day… And O so very homesick we have gr… The laughter of the world is like… In our tired hearing, and its song…
By her white bed I muse a little… She fell asleep—not very long ago,… And yet the grass was here and not… The leaf, the bud, the blossom, an… Midsummer’s heaven above us, and t…
They meet to say farewell: Their… Of saying this is hard to say—. He holds her hand an Instant, who… Distressed—and she unclasps it slo… He lends his gaze evasively
Some sings of the lily, and daisy,… And the pansies and pinks that the… throws In the green grassy lap of the med… Blinkin’ up at the skyes through t…
We got up a Christmas-doin’s Last Christmas Eve— Kindo’ dimonstration 'At I railly believe Give more satisfaction—
A languid atmosphere, a lazy breez… With labored respiration, moves th… From distant reaches, till the gol… Break in crisp whispers at my feet… My book, neglected of an idle mind…
Friends, my heart is half aweary Of its happiness to-night: Though your songs are gay and chee… And your spirits feather-light, There’s a ghostly music haunting
