#AmericanWriters
Sence I tuk holt o’ Gibbses’ Chu… And be’n a-handlin’ the concern, I’ve travelled round the grand old… Of Indiany, lots, o’ late—! I’ve canvassed Crawferdsville and…
'Write me a rhyme of the present t… And the poet took his pen And wrote such lines as the miser… Hide in the hearts of men. He grew enthused, as the poets use…
Old Man Whiskery-Whee-Kum-Wheez… Lives 'way up in the leaves o’ tre… An’ wunst I slipped up-stairs to… In Aunty’s room, while she 'uz aw… An’ I clumbed up in her cushion-c…
We got up a Christmas-doin’s Last Christmas Eve— Kindo’ dimonstration 'At I railly believe Give more satisfaction—
A Old Tramp slep’ in our stable w… An’ The Raggedy Man he caught An’ roust him up, an’ chased him o… Clean out through our back lot! An’ th’ Old Tramp hollered back a…
Illileo, the moonlight seemed lost… The stars but strewed the azure as… The airs of night were quiet as th… And all your words were sweeter th… Illileo Legardi, in the garden th…
The world is turned ag’in’ me, And people says, 'They guess That nothin’ else is in me But pure maliciousness!' I git the blame for doin’
Ho! green fields and running brook… Knotted strings and fishing-hooks Of the truant, stealing down Weedy backways of the town. Where the sunshine overlooks,
I come upon it suddenly, alone— A little pathway winding in the we… That fringe the roadside; and with… I wander as it leads. Full wistfully along the slender w…
1 O the Raggedy Man! He work… 2 An’ he’s the goodest man eve… 3 He comes to our house every… 4 An’ waters the horses, an’ f… 5 An’ he opens the shed—an’ we…
A lover said, ‘O Maiden, love me… For I must go away: And should ANOTHER ever come t… Of love—What WILL you say?’ And she let fall a royal robe of h…
It’s a mystery to see me—a man o’… Who’s lived a cross old bachelor f… A-lookin’ glad and smilin’! And t… That you can guess the reason why… I must tell you all about it! But…
Barefooted boys scud up the street Or skurry under sheltering sheds; And schoolgirl faces, pale and swe… Gleam from the shawls about their… Doors bang; and mother-voices call
‘Why do I sing—Tra-la-la-la-la! Glad as a King?—Tra-la-la-la-la! Well, since you ask,— I have such a pleasant task, I can not help but sing!
In its color, shade and shine, ‘T was a summer warm as wine, With an effervescent flavoring of… And a fragrance and a taste Of ripe roses gone to waste,