#AmericanWriters
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
OH, who would be sad tho’ the sky… And meadow and woodlands are empty… For softly and merrily now there c… The little white birds thro’ the w… The squirrel’s enjoying the rest o…
DINAH stan’ befo’ de glass, Lookin’ moughty neat, An’ huh purty shadder sass At huh haid an’ feet. While she sasshay 'roun’ an’ bow,
He was a poet who wrote clever ver… And folks said he had a fine poeti… But his father, a practical farmer… Of letting the strength of his arm… He called on his sweetheart each…
Long time ago, we two set out, My soul and I. I know not why, For all our way was dim with doubt… I know not where
WHO dat knockin’ at de do’? Why, Ike Johnson, —yes, fu’ sho! Come in, Ike. I’s mighty glad You come down. I t’ought you’s mad
GOO’—BY, Jinks, I got to hump, Got to mek dis pony jump; See dat sun a—goin’ down 'N’ me a—foolin’ hyeah in town! Git up, Suke —go long!
THOU art the soul of a summer’s… Thou art the breath of the rose. But the summer is fled And the rose is dead Where are they gone, who knows, wh…
I’VE been watchin’ of 'em parson, An’ I’m sorry fur to say 'At my mind is not contented With the loose an’ keerless way ‘At the young folks treat the musi…
When all is done, and my last word… And ye who loved me murmur, ‘He i… Let no one weep, for fear that I… And sorrow too that ye should sorr… When all is done and in the oozing…
They please me not—these solemn so… That hint of sermons covered up. 'T is true the world should heed i… But in a poem let me sup, Not simples brewed to cure or ease
I been t’inkin’ ‘bout de preachah;… ’Bout hit bein’ people’s dooty, fu… How one ought to live so pleasant… Meetin’ evahbody roun’ us wid ouah… Dat 's all right, I ain’t a—sputi…
O LORD, the hard—won miles Have worn my stumbling feet: Oh, soothe me with thy smiles, And make my life complete. The thorns were thick and keen
THOUGH the winds be dank, And the sky be sober, And the grieving Day In a mantle gray Hath let her waiting maiden robe h…
Who say my hea’t ain’t true to you… Dey bettah heish dey mouf. I knows I loves you thoo an’ thoo In watah time er drouf. I wush dese people 'd stop dey tal…