#AmericanWriters
Wunst I looked our pepper-box lid An’ cut little pie-dough biscuits,… And cooked 'em on our stove one da… When our hired girl she said I ma… _Honey’s_ the goodest thing—Oo-_o…
Say farewell, and let me go; Shatter every vow! All the future can bestow Will be welcome now! And if this fair hand I touch
I’m bin a-visitun 'bout a week To my little Cousin’s at Nameless… An’ I’m got the hives an’ a new s… An’ I’m come back home where my b…
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
Las’ July—an’, I persume 'Bout as hot As the ole Gran’-Jury room Where they sot!— Fight 'twixt Mike an’ Dock McGri…
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…
Gracie wuz allus a _careless_ tot; But Gracie dearly loved her doll, An’ played wiv it on the winder-si… 'Way up-stairs, when she ought to… An’ her muvver _telled_ her so an’…
Back from a two-years’ sentence! And though it had been ten, You think, I were scarred no deep… In the eyes of my fellow-men. ‘My fellow-men—?’ Sounds like a s…
It was a Jolly Miller lived on th… He looked upon his piller, and the… 'O Mr. Flea! you have bit’ me, And you shall shorely die!' So he scrunched his bones against…
AFTER READING HIS AU… POOR victim of that vulture curs… That hovers o’er the universe, With ready talons quick to strike In every human heart alike,
Maud Muller worked at making hay, And cleared her forty cents a day. Her clothes were coarse, but her h… And so she worked in the sweet sun… Singing as glad as a bird in May
Uncle Sidney, when he wuz here, Maked me a squirtgun out o’ some Elder-bushes ‘at growed out near Where wuz the brickyard—’way out c… To where the toll-gate come!
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…
We must get home—for we have been… So long it seems forever and a day… And O so very homesick we have gr… The laughter of the world is like… In our tired hearing, and its song…
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…
