#AmericanWriters
Dey is snow upon de meddahs, dey i… An’ de little branch’s watahs is a… De win’ goes roun’ de cabin lak a… An’ de chillen shakes an’ shivahs… Dey is hick’ry in de fiahplace, wh…
The world is a snob, and the man w… Is the chap for its money’s worth: And the lust for success causes ha… That are cursing this brave old ea… For it 's fine to go up, and the w…
Ah, Douglass, we have fall’n on e… Such days as thou, not even thou d… When thee, the eyes of that harsh… Saw, salient, at the cross of devi… And all the country heard thee wit…
ON THE RECEIPT OF A F… To me, like hauntings of a vagrant… From some far forest which I once… The perfume of this flower of vers… Tho’ seemingly soul—blossoms faint…
GOD has his plans, and what if we With our sight be too blind to see Their full fruition; cannot he, Who made it, solve the mystery? One whom we loved has fall’n aslee…
THE sand—man he’s a jolly old fel… His face is kind and his voice is… But he makes your eyelids as heavy… And then you got to go off to bed; I don’t think I like the sand—man…
'Tis an old deserted homestead On the outskirts of the town, Where the roof is all moss—covered… And the walls are tumbling down; But around that little cottage
THE river sleeps beneath the sky, And clasps the shadows to its brea… The crescent moon shines dim on hi… And in the lately radiant west The gold is fading into gray.
Kiss me, Miami, thou most constan… I love thee more for that thou cha… When Winter comes with frigid bla… Or when the blithesome Spring is… And Summer’s here with sunshine h…
Will I have some mo’ dat pie? No, ma’am, thank—ee, dat is—I— Bettah quit daihin’ me. Dat ah pie look sutny good: How 'd you feel now ef I would?
‘THOU art a fool,’ said my head… ‘Indeed, the greatest of fools tho… To be led astray by the trick of a… By a smiling face or a ribbon smar… And my heart was in sore distress.
In this old garden, fair, I walk… Heart—charmed with all the beauty… The rich, luxuriant grasses’ cooli… The wall’s environ, ivy—decked and… The waving branches with the wind…
'TWAS three an’ thirty year ago, I When I was ruther young, you kn… I had my last an’ only fight About a gal one summer night. 'Twas me an’ Zekel Johnson; Zeke
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…
It is as if a silver chord Were suddenly grown mute, And life’s song with its rhythm wa… Against a silver lute. It is as if a silence fell
