What intuition named thee?—Throug… Of the awed soul came the command… Into the mother-heart, foretelling… Should palpitate with his whose ra… Sing on while daisies bloom and la…

You think it is a sorry thing That I am blind. Your pitying Is welcome to me; yet indeed, I think I have but little need Of it. Though you may marvel much

Only a dream! Her head is bent Over the keys of the instrument, While her trembling fingers go ast… In the foolish tune she tries to p…

My Mary, O my Mary! The simmer-skies are blue; The dawnin’ brings the dazzle, An’ the gloamin’ brings the dew,— The mirk o’ nicht the glory

On the banks o’ Deer Crick! Ther… Worter slidin’ past ye jes as clai… See yer shadder in it, and the sha… And the shadder o’ the buzzard as… Shadder o’ the pizen-vines, and sh…

Wilful we are in our infirmity Of childish questioning and discon… Whate’er befalls us is divinely me… Thou Truth the clearer for thy my… Make us to meet what is or is to b…

Wunst, 'way West in Illinoise, Wuz two Bears an’ their two boys: An’ the two boys’ names, you know, Wuz—like _ours_ is,—Jim an’ Jo; An’ their _parunts’_ names wuz sam…

Tomps 'ud allus haf to say Somepin’ ‘bout ’his mother’s way.'… _He_ lived hard-like—never jined Any church of any kind.— 'It was Mother’s way,' says he,

Old friend of mine, whose chiming… Has been the burthen of a rhyme Within my heart since first I cam… To know thee in thy mellow prime; With warm emotions in my breast

As one in sorrow looks upon The dead face of a loyal friend, By the dim light of New Year’s da… I saw the Old Year end. Upon the pallid features lay

Close the book and dim the light, I shall read no more to-night. No—I am not sleepy, dear— Do not go: sit by me here In the darkness and the deep

For you, I could forget the gay Delirium of merriment, And let my laughter die away In endless silence of content. I could forget, for your dear sake…

One 's the pictur’ of his Pa, And the _other_ of her Ma— Jes the bossest pair o’ babies ‘at… And we love ’em as the bees Loves the blossoms of the trees,

The midnight is not more bewilderi… To her drowsed eyes, than to her e… Of dim, sweet singing voices, inte… With purl of flute and subtle twan… Strained through the lattice, wher…

He was jes a plain ever’-day, all-… Consumpted-Iookin’—but la! The jokeiest, wittiest, story-tell… Feller you ever saw! Worked at jes coarse work, but you…