#AmericanWriters
A song for the unsung heroes who r… When the life of the land was thre… For the men who came from the corn… Who rallied round when they heard… They laid them down in the valleys…
Ther’ ain’t no use in all this str… An’ hurryin’, pell—mell, right thr… I don’t believe in goin’ too fast To see what kind o’ road you’ve pa… It ain’t no mortal kind o’ good,
WHEN you and I were young, the d… Were filled with scent of pink and… And full of joy from dawn till clo… From morning’s mist till evening’s… And when the robin sung his song
G’way an’ quit dat noise, Miss Lu… Put dat music book away; What’s de use to keep on tryin’? Ef you practise twell you’re gray, You cain’t sta’t no notes a—flyin’
(Lines on reading ‘Driftwood.’) Driftwood gathered here and there Along the beach of time; Now and then a chip of truth ‘Mid boards and boughs of rhyme;
She told the story, and the whole… At wrongs and cruelties it had not… But for this fearless woman’s voic… She spoke to consciences that long… Her message, Freedom’s clear reve…
TIM Murphy’s gon’ walkin’ wid Ma… O chone! If I was her muther, I’d frown on… O chone! I’m sure its unmutherlike, darin’…
IF the muse were mine to tempt it And my feeble voice were strong, If my tongue were trained to measu… I would sing a stirring song. I would sing a song heroic
In Life’s Red Sea with faith I p… And wait the sound of that sustain… Which long ago the men of Israel… When Pharaoh’s host behind them,… Raged on, consuming with revengefu…
Jes’ lak toddy wahms you thoo’ Sets yo’ haid a reelin’, Meks you ovah good and new, Dat ‘s de way I ’s feelin’. Seems to me hit ‘s summah time,
Over the hills and the valleys of… Slowly I take my way. Life is the night with its dream—v… Death is the waking at day. Down thro’ the dales and the bower…
OH, I am hurt to death, my Love; The shafts of Fate have pierced m… And I am sick and weary of The endless pain and smart. My soul is weary of the strife,
Fling out your banners, your honor… Raise to the ether your paeans of… Strike every chord and let music b… Celebrate freely this day of all d… Few are the years since that notab…
A crust of bread and a corner to s… A minute to smile and an hour to w… A pint of joy to a peck of trouble… And never a laugh but the moans co… And that is life!
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,
