#AmericanWriters
Out of my heart, one treach’rous w… I locked young Love and threw the… Grief, wandering widely, found the… And hastened with it, straightway,… With Love beside him. He unlocked…
I been t’inkin’ ‘bout de preachah;… ’Bout hit bein’ people’s dooty, fu… How one ought to live so pleasant… Meetin’ evahbody roun’ us wid ouah… Dat 's all right, I ain’t a—sputi…
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’…
A YOUTH went faring up and down… Alack and well—a—day. He fared him to the market town, Alack and well—a—day. And there he met a maiden fair,
Dream days of fond delight and hou… As rosy—hued as dawn, are mine. Love’s drowsy wine, Brewed from the heart of Passion… Flows softly o’er my lips
When I was young I longed for Lo… And held his glory far above All other earthly things. I cried… ‘Come, Love, dear Love, with me a… And with my subtlest art I wooed,
The Oriole sings in the greening… As if he were half—way waiting, The rosebuds peep from their hoods… Timid, and hesitating. The rain comes down in a torrent s…
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…
THE lake’s dark breast Is all unrest, It heaves with a sob and a sigh. Like a tremulous bird, From its slumber stirred,
A BLUE—BELL springs upon the l… A lark sits singing in the hedge; Sweet perfumes scent the balmy air… And life is brimming everywhere. What lark and breeze and bluebird…
I’VE a humble little motto That is homely, though it’s true,… Keep a—pluggin’ away. It’s a thing when I’ve an object That I always try to do, —
‘GOOD-BYE,’ I said to my consc… ‘Good-bye for aye and aye,’ And I put her hands off harshly, And turned my face away; And conscience smitten sorely
I know a little country place Where still my heart doth linger, And o’er its fields is every grace Lined out by memory’s finger. Back from the lane where poplars g…
FU’ de peace o’ my eachin’ heels,… Don’ fiddle dat chune no mo’. Don’ you see how dat melody stuhs… An’ baigs me to tek to de flo’? You knows I’s a Christian, good a…
UNCLE JOHN, he makes me tired; Thinks 'at he’s jest so all—fired Smart, 'at he kin pick up, so, Ever’thing he wants to know. Tried to ketch me up last night,