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

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…

When Old Folks they wuz young lik… An’ little as you an’ me Them wuz the best times ever wuz Er ever goin’ to be!

There is ever a song somewhere, my… There is ever a something sings al… There’s the song of the lark when… And the song of the thrush when th… The sunshine showers across the gr…

The greeting of the company throug… Was like a jubilee,—the children’s… And fusillading hand-claps, with g… And detonations of the older ones, Raged to such tumult of tempestuou…

Thou dread, uncanny thing, With fuzzy breast and leathern win… In mad, zigzagging flight, Notching the dusk, and buffeting The black cheeks of the night,

AFTER LEE O. HARRIS The master-hand whose pencils trac… This wondrous landscape of the mor… Is but the sun, whose glowing face Reflects the rapture and the grace

There’s a space for good to bloom… Every heart of man or woman,— And however wild or human, Or however brimmed with gall, Never heart may beat without it;

I want to be a Soldier!— A Soldier!— A Soldier!— I want to be a Soldier, with a sa… Or a little carbine rifle, or a mu…

What is it in old fiddle-chunes 'a… And ripples up my backbone tel I’… Kindo’ like that sweet-sick feelin… The first you ever swung in, with… Yer first picnic—yer first ice-cre…

The touches of her hands are like… Of velvet snowflakes; like the tou… The peach just brushes 'gainst the… The flossy fondlings of the thistl… Caught in the crinkle of a leaf of…

Say something to me! I’ve waited… Waited and wondered in vain; Only a sentence would fall like a… Over this listening pain— Over a silence that glowers and fr…

When chirping crickets fainter cry… And pale stars blossom in the sky, And twilight’s gloom has dimmed th… And blurred the butterfly: When locust-blossoms fleck the wal…

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…

Like a drift of faded blossoms Caught in a slanting rain, His fingers glimpsed down the stri… In a tremulous refrain: Patter and tinkle, and drip and dr…