AN old worn harp that had been pl… Till all its strings were loose an… Joy, Hate and Fear, each one essa… To play. But each in turn had fou… No sweet responsiveness of sound

THEN He loved her, and through many yea… Had paid his fair devoted court, Until she wearied, and with sneers Turned all his ardent love to spor…

A lilt and a swing, And a ditty to sing, Or ever the night grow old; The wine is within, And I’m sure t’were a sin

Let those who will stride on their… And prick themselves to haste with… Unheeding, as they struggle day by… If flowers be sweet or skies be bl… For me, the lone, cool way by purl…

Cool is the wind, for the summer i… Who ‘s for the road? Sun—flecked and soft, where the de… Who ’s for the road? Knapsack and alpenstock press hand…

I BE’N down in ole Kentucky Fur a week er two, an’ say, 'T wuz ez hard ez breakin’ oxen Fur to tear myse’f away. Allus argerin’ 'bout fren’ship

Ashes to ashes, dust unto dust, What of his loving, what of his lu… What of his passion, what of his p… What of his poverty, what of his p… Earth, the great mother, has calle…

HE scribbles some in prose and ve… And now and then he prints it; He paints a little, —gathers some Of Nature’s gold and mints it. He plays a little, sings a song,

De way t’ings come, hit seems to m… Is des’ one monst’ous mystery; De way hit seem to strike a man, Dey ain’t no sense, dey ain’t no p… Ef trouble sta’ts a pilin’ down,

Oh, what shall I do? I am wholly… I am sure I ‘ll be jailed for a l… I ’ll be out of a job—it’s the thi… When I ‘m letting my duty go by w… You may judge the extent and degre…

When first of wise old Johnson ta… My youthful mind its homage brough… And made the pond’rous crusty sage The object of a noble rage. Nor did I think (How dense we are…

How shall I woo thee to win thee,… Say in what tongue shall I tell o… I who was fearless so timid have g… All that was eagle has turned into… The path from the meadow that lead…

I stand above the city’s rush and… And gaze far down with calm and un… To where the misty smoke wreath gr… Above the myriad roofs and spires… Still is my heart and vacant is my…

Duck come switchin’ 'cross de lot Hi, oh, Miss Lady! Hurry up an’ hide de pot Hi, oh, Miss Lady! Duck’s a mighty 'spicious fowl,

Slow moves the pageant of a climbi… Their footsteps drag far, far belo… And, unprevailing by their utmost… Seem faltering downward from each… No strange, swift—sprung exception…