The Town Karnteel—! It’s who’ll… Its praises jushtifiable? For who can sing av anything So lovely and reliable? Whin Summer, Spring, or Winter l…

O touch me with your hands— For pity’s sake! My brow throbs ever on with such a… As only your cool touch may take a… And so, I pray

I cannot say, and I will not say That he is dead– . He is just awa… With a cheery smile, and a wave of… He has wandered into an unknown la… And left us dreaming how very fair

You kin boast about yer cities, an… And brag about yer County-seats,… And railroads, and factories, and… But the little Town o’ Tailholt i… You kin harp about yer churches, w…

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…

What makes you come HERE fer, M… So much to our house?—SAY? Come to see our big sister!— An’ Charley he says 'at you kisse… An’ he ketched you, th’uther day!—

Had a hare-lip—Joney had: Spiled his looks, and Joney knowe… Fellers tried to bore him, bad— But ef ever he got mad, He kep’ still and never showed it.

The Hoosier Folk-Child—all unsun… Unlettered all of mind and tongue; Unmastered, unmolested—made Most wholly frank and unafraid: Untaught of any school—unvexed

To all the little children:—The h… The sober and the silent ones; the… The good ones—Yes, the good ones,… Little Orphant Annie’s come to ou… An’ wash the cups an’ saucers up,…

Ha! My dear! I’m back again— Vendor of Bohemia’s wares! Lordy! How it pants a man Climbing up those awful stairs! Well, I’ve made the dealer say

DIED—Early morning of September… in the gleaming dawn of ‘name and… Hamilton J. Dunbar. Dead! Dead! Dead! We thought him ours alone;

I’ b’en a-kindo musin’, as the fel… About o’ the conclusion that they… When you come to cipher on it, tha… When we swore our first 'dog-gone-… You git my idy, do you?—_Little_…

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…

A monument for the Soldiers! And what will ye build it of? Can ye build it of marble, or bras… Outlasting the Soldiers’ love? Can ye glorify it with legends

'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