#AmericanWriters #BlackWriters
De times is mighty stirrin’ ‘mong… Dey ’sputin’ an’ dey argyin’ an’ f… An’ all dis monst’ous trouble dat… Is 'bout dat Lucy Jackson dat was… She was de preachah’s favoured, an…
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…
I HAD not known before Forever was so long a word. The slow stroke of the clock of ti… I had not heard. 'Tis hard to learn so late;
Darling, my darling, my heart is o… It flies to thee this morning like… Like happy birds in springtime my… The same sweet song thine ears hav… The sun is in my window, the shado…
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…
LOVE used to carry a bow, you kn… But now he carries a taper; It is either a length of wax aglow… Or a twist of lighted paper. I pondered a little about the scam…
“I am but clay,” the sinner plead, Who fed each vain desire. “Not only clay,” another said, “But worse, for thou art mire.”
Come, essay a sprightly measure, Tuned to some light song of pleasu… Maidens, let your brows be crowned As we foot this merry round. From the ground a voice is singing…
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…
The sun hath shed its kindly light… Our harvesting is gladly o’er Our fields have felt no killing bl… Our bins are filled with goodly st… From pestilence, fire, flood, and…
TWO little boots all rough an’ wo… Two little boots! Laws, I’s kissed 'em times befo’, Dese little boots! Seems de toes a—peepin’ thoo
THERE’s a memory keeps a-runnin’ Through my weary head to-night, An’ I see a picture dancin’ In the fire-flames’ ruddy-light; 'Tis the picture of an orchard
DE sun hit shine an’ de win’ hit… Ol’ Brer Rabbit be a—layin’ low, He know dat de wintah time a—comin… De huntah man he walk an’ wait, He walk right by Brer Rabbit’s ga…
‘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;
DO’ a—stan’in’ on a jar, fiah a—s… thoo, Ol’ folks drowsin’ 'roun’ de place… wide awake is Lou, W’en I tap, she answah, an’ I see
