#AmericanWriters
Oh, summer has clothed the earth In a cloak from the loom of the su… And a mantle, too, of the skies’ s… And a belt where the rivers run. And now for the kiss of the wind,
This is the debt I pay Just for one riotous day, Years of regret and grief, Sorrow without relief. Pay it I will to the end —
What dreams we have and how they f… Like rosy clouds across the sky; Of wealth, of fame, of sure succes… Of love that comes to cheer and bl… And how they wither, how they fade…
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,
O li’l’ lamb out in de col’, De Mastah call you to de fol’, O li’l’ lamb! He hyeah you bleatin’ on de hill; Come hyeah an’ keep yo’ mou’nin’ s…
The sun has slipped his tether And galloped down the west. (Oh, it’s weary, weary waiting, lo… The little bird is sleeping In the softness of its nest.
I’VE been watchin’ of 'em parson, An’ I’m sorry fur to say 'At my mind is not contented With the loose an’ keerless way ‘At the young folks treat the musi…
Bones a—gittin’ achy, Back a—feelin’ col’, Han’s a—growin’ shaky, Jes’ lak I was ol’. Fros’ erpon de meddah
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.
FOUR hundred years ago a tangled… Lay sleeping on the west Atlantic… Their devious ways the Old World’… Content, and loved, and labored, d… While students still believed the…
OH, the poets may sing of their L… And may rave in their rhymes about… But I throw my poetical wings to… And soar in a song to my Lady Lou… A sweet little maid, who is dearer…
OH, de grubbin’—hoe’s a—rustin’ i… An’ de plow’s a—tumblin’ down in d… While de whippo’will’s a—wailin’ l… When his stubbo’n hea’t is tryin’… In de furrers whah de co’n was all…
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…
Back to the breast of thy mother, Child of the earth! E’en her caress can not smother What thou hast done. Follow the trail of the westering…
Dear Miss Lucy: I been t’inkin’… But dis writin’ 's mighty tejous,… But I 's got a little lesure, so… Fu’ to let you know my feelin’s si… I ‘s right well, I ’s glad to tel…
