O soul of mine, look out and see My bride, my bride that is to be! Reach out with mad, impatient hand… And draw aside futurity As one might draw a veil aside—

O the old trundle-bed where I sle… What canopied king might not covet… The glory and peace of that slumbe… Like a long, gracious rest in the… The quaint, homely couch, hidden c…

Even in such a scene of senseless… The children were surprised one su… By a strange man who called across… Inquiring for their father’s resid… And, being answered that this was…

Oh! the old swimmin’-hole! whare t… Looked like a baby-river that was… And the gurgle of the worter round… Sounded like the laugh of somethin… Before we could remember anything…

It’s many’s the scenes which is de… As I think of my childhood so lon… The home of my birth, with it’s ol… And the bright morning-glories tha… The warped clab-board roof whare t…

When Little Claude was naughty wu… At dinner-time, an’ said He won’t say '_Thank you_' to his… She maked him go to bed An’ stay two hours an’ not git up,…

'They ain’t much 'tale’ about it!'… 'K’tawby grapes wuz gittin’ good-n… I rickollect; and Tubb Kingry and… 'Ud kindo’ browse round town, dayt… What neighbers ‘peared to have the…

Her heart knew naught of sorrow, Nor the vaguest taint of sin— 'Twas an ever-blooming blossom Of the purity within: And her hands knew only touches

Hereafter! O we need not waste Our smiles or tears, whatever befa… No happiness but holds a taste Of something sweeter, after all;— No depth of agony but feels

He faced his canvas (as a seer who… Pierces the crust of this existenc… And smiled beyond on that his geni… Ere mated with his being. Conscio… Of his high theme alone, he smiled…

While _any_ day was notable and de… That gave the children Noey, hist… Records his advent emphasized inde… With sharp italics, as he came to… The stock one special morning, fai…

Hey, Old Midsummer! are you here… With all your harvest-store of old… Vast overhanging meadow-lands of r… And drowsy dawns, and noons when g… Nods in the sun, and lazy truant b…

Lay away the story,— Though the theme is sweet, There’s a lack of something yet, Leaves it incomplete:— There’s a nameless yearning—

Settin’ round the stove, last nigh… Down at Wess’s store, was me And Mart Strimples, Tunk, and Wh… And Doc Bills, and two er three Fellers o’ the Mudsock tribe

Sence I tuk holt o’ Gibbses’ Chu… And be’n a-handlin’ the concern, I’ve travelled round the grand old… Of Indiany, lots, o’ late—! I’ve canvassed Crawferdsville and…