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…

COVER him over with daisies whit… And eke with the poppies red, Sit with me here by his couch to—n… For the First—Born, Love, is dea… Poor little fellow, he seemed so f…

UNDERNEATH the autumn sky, Haltingly, the lines go by. Ah, would steps were blithe and ga… As when first they marched away, Smile on lip and curl on brow,

DEY had a gread big pahty down to… Was I dah? You bet! I neveh in m… All de folks f’om fou’ plantations… Dey come troopin’ thick ez chillun… Evahbody dressed deir fines’—Heis…

THE wind is out in its rage to—ni… And your father is far at sea. The rime on the window is hard and… But dear, you are near to me. Heave ho, weave low,

DEAR heart, good—night! Nay, list awhile that sweet voice… When the world is all so bright, And the sound of song sets the hea… Oh, love, it is not right—

The poor man went to the rich man’… ‘I come as Lazarus came,’ he said… The rich man turned with humble he… ‘I will send my dogs to lick your…

The November sun invites me, And although the chill wind smites… I will wander to the woodland Where the laden trees await; And with loud and joyful singing

STANDIN’ at de winder, Feelin’ kind o’ glum, Listenin’ to de raindrops Play de kettle drum, Lookin’ crost de medders

I know a little country place Where still my heart doth linger, And o’er its fields is every grace Lined out by memory’s finger. Back from the lane where poplars g…

IT’s all a farce, —these tales th… About the breezes sighing, And moans astir o’er field and del… Because the year is dying. Such principles are most absurd, —

The word is writ that he who runs… What is the passing breath of eart… But to snatch glory from the hands… That is to be, to live, to strive… A poor Virginia cabin gave the se…

OH the breeze is blowin’ balmy And the sun is in a haze; There’s a cloud jest givin’ coolne… To the laziest of days. There are crowds upon the lakeside…

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…

DE win’ is blowin’ wahmah, An hit’s blowin’ f’om de bay; Dey’s a so’t o’ mist a—risin’ All erlong de meddah way; Dey ain’t a hint o’ frostin’