#AmericanWriters
YESTERDAY I held your hand, Reverently I pressed it, And its gentle yieldingness From my soul I blessed it. But to—day I sit alone,
‘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.
Oh, summer has clothed the earth In a cloak from the loom of the su… And a mantle, too, of the skies’ s… And a belt where the rivers run. And now for the kiss of the wind,
At the golden gate of song Stood I, knocking all day long, But the Angel, calm and cold, Still refused and bade me, ‘Hold.… Then a breath of soft perfume,
YOU kin talk about yer anthems An’ yer arias an’ sich, An’ yer modern choir—singin’ That you think so awful rich; But you orter heerd us youngsters
Out of my heart, one day, I wrote… With my heart’s blood imbued, Instinct with passion, tremulously… With grief subdued; Breathing a fortitude
COME away to dreamin’ town, Mandy Lou, Mandy Lou, Whaih de skies don’ nevah frown, Mandy Lou; Whaih de streets is paved with gol…
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
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
One night in my room, still and be… With will and with thought in ecli… I rested in sleep that was dreamle… When softly there fell on my lips A touch, as of lips that were pres…
Oh for the breath of the briny dee… And the tug of the bellying sail, With the sea—gull’s cry across the… And a passing boatman’s hail. For, be she fierce or be she gay,
You 'll be wonderin’ whut ‘s de re… I ’s a grinnin’ all de time, An’ I guess you t’ink my sperits Mus’ be feelin’ mighty prime. Well, I 'fess up, I is tickled
We wear the mask that grins and li… It hides our cheeks and shades our… This debt we pay to human guile; With torn and bleeding hearts we s… And mouth with myriad subtleties.
HOME agin, an’ home to stay — Yes, it’s nice to be away. Plenty things to do an’ see, But the old place seems to me Jest about the proper thing.
I GREW a rose once more to pleas… All things to aid it —dew, sun, wi… Were kindly; and to shield it from… I fenced it safely in with gratefu… No other hand than mine shall pluc…