TELL your love where the roses b… And the hearts of the lilies quive… Not in the city’s gleam and glow, But down by a half—sunned river. Not in the crowded ball—room’s gla…

W’EN de clouds is hangin’ heavy i… An’ de win’s 's a—taihin’ moughty… I don’ go a—sighin’ all erlong de… I des’ wo’k a—waitin’ fu’ de close… Case I knows w’en evenin’ draps h…

YOUR spoken words are roses fine… The songs you sing are perfect pea… How lavish nature is about your fe… To scatter flowers and jewels both… Blushing the stream of petal beaut…

WHO dat knockin’ at de do’? Why, Ike Johnson, —yes, fu’ sho! Come in, Ike. I’s mighty glad You come down. I t’ought you’s mad

Search thou my heart; If there be guile, It shall depart Before thy smile. Search thou my soul;

BY the stream I dream in calm del… How the clouds like crowds of snow… And the water into ripples breaks… Like a host of armored knights wit… And I deem the stream an emblem f…

OH, dere’s lots o’ keer an’ troub… In dis world to swaller down; An’ ol’ Sorrer’s purty lively In her way o’ gittin’ roun’. Yet dere’s times when I furgit 'e…

Break me my bounds, and let me fly To regions vast of boundless sky; Nor I, like piteous Daphne, be Root—bound. Ah, no! I would be fr… As yon same bird that in its fligh…

Love is the light of the world, my… Heigho, but the world is gloomy; The light has failed and the lamp… Leaves only darkness to me. Love is the light of the world, my…

Oh, de weathah it is balmy an’ de… Li’l’ gal, An’ de mockin’ bird is singin’ in… Li’l’ gal; Dere 's a hummin’ an’ a bummin’ in…

Long had I grieved at what I deem… But now I am as grain within the… If so be thou must crush me for th… Grind on, O potent God, and do th…

‘In the fight at Brandywine, Blac… a scythe, sweeps his way through t… '_Myths and Legends of Our Own L… Gray are the pages of record, Dim are the volumes of eld;

I like to hear of wealth and gold, And El Doradoes in their glory; I like for silks and satins bold To sweep and rustle through a stor… The nightingale is sweet of song;

THE gray dawn on the mountain top Is slow to pass away. Still lays him by in sluggish drea… The golden God of day. And then a light along the hills,

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…