#AmericanWriters
By rugged ways and thro’ the night We struggle blindly toward the lig… And groping, stumbling, ever pray For sight of long delaying day. The cruel thorns beside the road
In the east the morning comes, Hear the rollin’ of the drums On the hill. But the heart that beat as they be… In the battle’s raging day heat
SWEETEST of the flowers a—bloo… In the fragrant vernal days Is the Lily of the Valley With its soft, retiring ways. Well, you chose this humble blosso…
DONE are the toils and the weari… Done is the summons of bugle and d… Softly and sweetly the sky overarc… Shelt’ring a land where Rebellion… Dark were the days of the country’…
I don’t believe in 'ristercrats An’ never did, you see; The plain ol’ homelike sorter folk… Is good enough fur me. O’ course, I don’t desire a man
Out in the sky the great dark clou… I look far out into the pregnant n… Where I can hear the solemn boomi… And catch the gleaming of a random… That tells me that the ship I see…
Little Miss Margaret sits in a po… She and her Dolly have just falle… Dolly is gazing with sorest stare, Fitted dejectedly back in her chai… Angry at Margaret, tearful and gr…
I’S feelin’ kin’ o’ lonesome in m… An’ my min’s done los’ de minutes… W’ile it teks me back a—flyin’ to… Whaih de Chesapeake goes grumblin… Oh, de ol’ plantation’s callin’ to…
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…
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,
Ah, love, my love is like a cry in… A long, loud cry to the empty sky, The cry of a man alone in the dese… With hands uplifted, with parching… Oh, rescue me, rescue me,
SEEN you down at chu’ch las’ nig… Nevah min’, Miss Lucy. What I mean? oh, dat 's all right… Nevah min’, Miss Lucy. You was sma’t ez sma’t could be,
STEP wid de banjo an’ glide wid… Dis ain’ no time fu’ to pottah an’… Fu’ Christmas is comin’, it’s rig… An’ dey’s houahs to dance 'fo’ de… What if de win’ is taihin’ an’ whi…
THE rain streams down like harp—s… The wind, that world—old harpist,… And ever as he sings his low refra… He plays upon the harp—strings of…
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…
