She told her beads with down—cast… Within the ancient chapel dim; And ever as her fingers slim Slipt o’er th’ insensate ivories, My rapt soul followed, spaniel—wis…

Long years ago, within a distant c… Ere Love had touched me with his… I dreamed of one to make my life’s… The panting passion of a summer’s… And ever since, in almost sad susp…

When a woman looks up at you with… And her brows are half uplifted in… As you breathe some pretty sentenc… She is very apt to stun you with a… It’s a sublte combination of a sne…

HOME agin, an’ home to stay — Yes, it’s nice to be away. Plenty things to do an’ see, But the old place seems to me Jest about the proper thing.

I sit upon the old sea wall, And watch the shimmering sea, Where soft and white the moonbeams… Till, in a fantasy, Some pure white maiden’s funeral p…

GRANNY’S gone a—visitin’, Seen huh git huh shawl W’en I was a—hidin’ down Hime de gyahden wall. Seen huh put her bonnet on,

Ah, yes, the chapter ends to—day; We even lay the book away; But oh, how sweet the moments sped Before the final page was read! We tried to read between the lines

AIN’T it nice to have a mammy W’en you kin’ o’ tiahed out Wid a—playin’ in de meddah, An’ a—runnin’ roun’ about Till hit’s made you mighty hongry,

In the heavy earth the miner Toiled and laboured day by day, Wrenching from the miser mountain Brilliant treasure where it lay. And the artist worn and weary

I’S a—gittin’ weary of de way dat… De folks dat’s got dey 'ligion in… Dey’s allus somep’n comin’ so de s… An’ hit tain’t no p’oposition fu’… Ef de sweet pertater fails us an’…

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,

He sang of life, serenely sweet, With, now and then, a deeper note. From some high peak, nigh yet remo… He voiced the world’s absorbing be… He sang of love when earth was you…

Bedtime 's come fu’ little boys. Po’ little lamb. Too tiahed out to make a noise, Po’ little lamb. You gwine t’ have to—morrer sho’?

When August days are hot an’ dry, When burning copper is the sky, I ‘d rather fish than feast or fly In airy realms serene and high. I ’d take a suit not made for look…