#AmericanWriters
The smell of the sea in my nostril… The sound of the sea in mine ears; The touch of the spray on my burni… Like the mist of reluctant tears. The blue of the sky above me,
Long time ago, we two set out, My soul and I. I know not why, For all our way was dim with doubt… I know not where
She gave a rose, And I kissed it and pressed it. I love her, she knows, And my action confessed it. She gave me a rose,
THE cloud looked in at the window… And said to the day, ‘Be dark!’ And the roguish rain tapped hard o… To stifle the song of the lark. The wind sprang up in the tree top…
Let those who will stride on their… And prick themselves to haste with… Unheeding, as they struggle day by… If flowers be sweet or skies be bl… For me, the lone, cool way by purl…
SILENTLY without my window, Tapping gently at the pane, Falls the rain. Through the trees sighs the breeze Like a soul in pain.
FOLKS ain’t got no right to cens… Him dat giv’ de squir’ls de bushta… Him dat built de gread big mountai… Him dat made de streets an’ drivew… We is all constructed diff’ent, d’…
STEP wid de banjo an’ glide wid… Dis ain’ no time fu’ to pottah an’… Fu’ Christmas is comin’, it’s rig… An’ dey’s houahs to dance 'fo’ de… What if de win’ is taihin’ an’ whi…
GOOD hunting! —aye, good hunting… Wherever the forests call; But ever a heart beats hot with fe… And what of the birds that fall? Good hunting! —aye, good hunting,
HELLO, ole man, you’re a—gittin’… An’ it beats ole Ned to see the w… 'At the crow’s feet’s a—getherin’… Tho’ it oughtn’t to cause me no su… Fur there’s many a sun 'at you’ve…
As lone I sat one summer’s day, With mien dejected, Love came by; His face distraught, his locks ast… So slow his gait, so sad his eye, I hailed him with a pitying cry:
TO F. N. Like sea—washed sand upon the shor… So fine and clean the tale, So clear and bright I almost see, The flashing of a sail.
Hyeah dat singin’ in de medders Whaih de folks is mekin’ hay? Wo’k is pretty middlin’ heavy Fu’ a man to be so gay. You kin tell dey 's somep’n specia…
When first of wise old Johnson ta… My youthful mind its homage brough… And made the pond’rous crusty sage The object of a noble rage. Nor did I think (How dense we are…
We wear the mask that grins and li… It hides our cheeks and shades our… This debt we pay to human guile; With torn and bleeding hearts we s… And mouth with myriad subtleties.