#AmericanWriters
When snow is here, and the trees l… And the knuckled twigs are gloved… When the breath congeals in the dr… And the old pathway to the barn is… When the rooster’s crow is sad to…
O her beautiful eyes! they are as… On the violet’s bloom when the mor… And the light of their love is the… O’er the meadows of Spring where… As the morn shirts the mists and t…
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
'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
Such a dear little street it is, n… From the noise of the city and hea… In cool shady coverts of whisperin… With their leaves lifted up to sha… Which in all its wide wanderings n…
Pa he bringed me here to stay 'Til my Ma she’s well.—An’ nen He’s go’ hitch up, Chris’mus-day, An’ come take me back again Wher’ my Ma’s at! Won’t I be
Nothin’ to say, my daughter! Noth… Gyrls that’s in love, I’ve notice… Yer mother did, afore you, when he… Yit here I am, and here you air;… You look lots like yer mother: Pu…
The audience entire seemed pleased… _Extremely_ pleased. And little M… From her task of instructing, ran… Her wondrous colored picture to an… Among the company.
I would not trace the hackneyed ph… Of shallow words and empty praise, And prate of 'peace’ till one migh… My foolish pen was drunk with ink. Nor will I here the wish express
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
I caught, for a second, across the… Just for a second, and barely that… A face, pox-pitted and evil-browed… Hid in the shade of a slouch-rim’d… With small gray eyes, of a look as…
Jap Miller down at Martinsville’s… When _he_ starts in a-talkin’ othe… 'Pears like that mouth o’ his’n wu… But jes’ to argify 'em down and ge… He’ll talk you down on tariff; er…
Me an’ Bert an’ Minnie-Belle Knows a joke, an’ we won’t tell! No, we don’t—'cause we don’t know _Why_ we got to laughin’ so; But we got to laughin’ so,
‘He is my friend,’ I said,— ‘Be patient!’ Overhead The skies were drear and dim; And lo! the thought of him Smited on my heart—and then
Sir Launcelot rode overthwart and… path but as wild adventure led him… horse, and took off his saddle and… unlaced his helm, and ungirdled hi… his shield before the cross.—Age o…