#Americans
I had fed the fire and stirred it,… Snapped their saucy little fingers… And in dressing-gown and slippers,… throne’— The old split-bottomed rocker—and…
You kin boast about yer cities, an… And brag about yer County-seats,… And railroads, and factories, and… But the little Town o’ Tailholt i… You kin harp about yer churches, w…
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
Let us forget. What matters it th… Once reigned o’er happy realms of… And talked of love, and let our vo… And ruled for some brief sessions… What if we sung, or laughed, or we…
Your hands– they are strangely fai… O Fair—for the jewels that sparkl… Fair– for the witchery of the spel… That ivory keys alone can tell; But when their delicate touches re…
I have sipped, with drooping lashe… Dreamy draughts of Verzenay; I have flourished brandy-smashes In the wildest sort of way; I have joked with 'Tom and Jerry’
He was jes a plain ever’-day, all-… Consumpted-Iookin’—but la! The jokeiest, wittiest, story-tell… Feller you ever saw! Worked at jes coarse work, but you…
The past is like a story I have listened to in dreams That vanished in the glory Of the Morning’s early gleams; And—at my shadow glancing—
Some sings of the lily, and daisy,… And the pansies and pinks that the… throws In the green grassy lap of the med… Blinkin’ up at the skyes through t…
A dark, tempestuous night; the sta… With shrouds of fog; an inky, jet-… The firmament; and where the moon… An hour agone seems like the darke… The weird wind—furious at its demo…
All hope of rest withdrawn me?— What dread command hath put This awful curse upon me— The curse of the wandering foot! Forward and backward and thither,
The air falls chill; The whippoorwill Pipes lonesomely behind the Hill: The dusk grows dense, The silence tense;
There’s a habit I have nurtured, From the sentimental time When my life was like a story, And my heart a happy rhyme,— Of clipping from the paper,
They rode right out of the morning… A glimmering, glittering cavalcade Of knights and ladies and every on… In princely sheen arrayed; And the king of them all, O he ro…
When little Dickie Swope’s a man, He’s go’ to be a Sailor; An’ little Hamey Tincher, he’s A-go’ to be a Tailor: Bud Mitchell, he’s a-go’ to be