See dis pictyah in my han’? Dat’s my gal; Ain’t she purty? goodness lan’! Huh name Sal. Dat’s de very way she be—

THE moon has left the sky, love, The stars are hiding now, And frowning on the world, love, Night bares her sable brow. The snow is on the ground, love,

Who say my hea’t ain’t true to you… Dey bettah heish dey mouf. I knows I loves you thoo an’ thoo In watah time er drouf. I wush dese people 'd stop dey tal…

WHEN the corn’s all cut and the… Like the burnished spears of a fie… When the field—mice rich on the nu… And the frost comes white and the… Then it’s heigh—ho! fellows and hi…

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…

Men may sing of their Havanas, el… The real or fancied virtues of the… But I worship Nicotina at a diffe… And she sits enthroned in glory in… It ‘s as fragrant as the meadows w…

GRASS commence a—comin’ Thoo de thawin’ groun’, Evah bird dat whistles Keepin’ noise erroun’; Cain’t sleep in de mo’nin’,

ALONG by the river of ruin They dally —the thoughtless ones, They dance and they dream By the side of the stream, As long as the river runs.

EIGHT of 'em hyeah all tol’ an’… Dese eyes o’ mine is wringin’ wet; My haht’s a—achin’ ha’d an’ so’, De way hit nevah ached befo’; My soul’s a—pleadin’, 'Lawd give…

THOU art the soul of a summer’s… Thou art the breath of the rose. But the summer is fled And the rose is dead Where are they gone, who knows, wh…

Dear critic, who my lightness so d… Would I might study to be prince… Right wisely would I rule that du… But, sir, I may not, till you abd…

When to sweet music my lady is dan… My heart to mild frenzy her beauty… Into my face are her brown eyes a—… And swift my whole frame thrills w… Dance, lady, dance, for the moment…

I 's boun’ to see my gal to—night— Oh, lone de way, my dearie! De moon ain’t out, de stars ain’t… Oh, lone de way, my dearie! Dis hoss o’ mine is pow’ful slow,

Dey been speakin’ at de cou’t—hous… An’ laws—a—massy me, 'T was de beatness kin’ o’ doin’s Dat evah I did see. Of cose I had to be dah

In the tents of Akbar Are dole and grief to—day, For the flower of all the Indies Has gone the silent way. In the tents of Akbar