The Hired Man Talks There’s old man Willards; an’ his… An’ Marg’et—S’repty’s sister—; an… There’s me—an’ I’m the hired man; An’ Tomps McClure, you better ye…

The rhyme o’ The Raggedy Man’s '… Is Tickle me, Love, in these Lon… 'Cause that-un’s the strangest of… An’ the worst to learn, an’ the la… An’ the funniest one, an’ the fool…

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;

O the drum! There is some Intonation in thy grum Monotony of utterance that strikes… As we hear

While _any_ day was notable and de… That gave the children Noey, hist… Records his advent emphasized inde… With sharp italics, as he came to… The stock one special morning, fai…

O in the depths of midnight What fancies haunt the brain! When even the sigh of the sleeper Sounds like a sob of pain. A sense of awe and of wonder

I quarrel not with destiny, But make the best of everything– The best is good enough for me. Leave discontent alone, and she Will shut her mouth and let you si…

A goddess, with a siren’s grace,— A sun-haired girl on a craggy plac… Above a bay where fish-boats lay Drifting about like birds of prey. Wrought was she of a painter’s dre…

I’ve ben thinkin’ back, of late, S’prisin’!—And I’m here to state I’m suspicious it’s a sign Of _age_, maybe, or decline Of my faculties,—and yit

‘O Printerman of sallow face, And look of absent guile, Is it the ’copy’ on your 'case’ That causes you to smile? Or is it some old treasure scrap

I’ve thought a power on men and th… As my uncle ust to say,— And ef folks don’t work as they pr… W’y, they ain’t no use to pray! Ef you want somepin’, and jes dead…

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…

'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

Blossoms crimson, white, or blue, Purple, pink, and every hue, From sunny skies, to tintings drow… In dusky drops of dew, I praise you all, wherever found,

My little story, Cousin Rufus sai… Is not so much a story as a fact. It is about a certain willful boy— An aggrieved, unappreciated boy, Grown to dislike his own home very…