#AmericanWriters
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…
MAY 30, 1878, Dying for victory, cheer on cheer Thundered on his eager ear. —CHARLES L. HOLSTEIN. Deep, tender, firm and true, the…
A fantasy that came to me As wild and wantonly designed As ever any dream might be Unraveled from a madman’s mind,— A tangle-work of tissue, wrought
Sometimes I keep From going to sleep, To hear the katydids ‘cheep-cheep!… And think they say Their prayers that way;
No song is mine of Arab steed— My courser is of nobler blood, And cleaner limb and fleeter speed… And greater strength and hardihood Than ever cantered wild and free
I dreamed I was a spider; A big, fat, hungry spider; A lusty, rusty spider With a dozen palsied limbs; With a dozen limbs that dangled
Awf’lest boy in this-here town Er anywheres is Elmer Brown! He’ll mock you—yes, an’ strangers,… An’ make a face an’ yell at you,— '_Here’s_ the way _you_ look!'
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…
A barefoot boy! I mark him at his… For May is here once more, and so… His dusty trousers, rolled half to… And his bare ankles grimy, too, as… Cross-hatchings of the nettle, in…
Mellow hazes, lowly trailing Over wood and meadow, veiling Somber skies, with wildfowl sailin… Sailor-like to foreign lands; And the north-wind overleaping
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.
There! little girl; don’t cry! They have broken your doll, I kno… And your tea-set blue, And your play-house, too, Are things of the long ago;
A quite convincing axiom Is, 'Life is like a play’; For, turning back its pages some Few dog-eared years away, I find where I
Ho! I’m going back to where We were youngsters.—Meet me there… Dear old barefoot chum, and we Will be as we used to be,— Lawless rangers up and down
Who am I but the Frog—the Frog! My realm is the dark bayou, And my throne is the muddy and mos… That the poison-vine clings to— And the blacksnakes slide in the s…