#AmericanWriters
Little Miss Margaret sits in a po… She and her Dolly have just falle… Dolly is gazing with sorest stare, Fitted dejectedly back in her chai… Angry at Margaret, tearful and gr…
THE rain streams down like harp—s… The wind, that world—old harpist,… And ever as he sings his low refra… He plays upon the harp—strings of…
Air a—gittin’ cool an’ coolah, Frost a—comin’ in de night, Hicka’ nuts an’ wa’nuts fallin’, Possum keepin’ out o’ sight. Tu’key struttin’ in de ba’nya’d,
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,
LITTLE lady at de do’, W’y you stan’ dey knockin’? Nevah seen you ac’ befo’ In er way so shockin’. Don’ you know de sin it is
Tek a cool night, good an’ cleah, Skiff o’ snow upon de groun’; Jes’ 'bout fall—time o’ de yeah W’en de leaves is dry an brown; Tek a dog an’ tek a axe,
‘Twixt a smile and a tear, ’Twixt a song and a sigh, 'Twixt the day and the dark, When the night draweth nigh. Ah, sunshine may fade
I HELD my heart so far from harm… I let it wander far and free In mead and mart, without alarm, Assured it must come back to me. And all went well till on a day,
I BE’N down in ole Kentucky Fur a week er two, an’ say, 'T wuz ez hard ez breakin’ oxen Fur to tear myse’f away. Allus argerin’ 'bout fren’ship
STEP wid de banjo an’ glide wid… Dis ain’ no time fu’ to pottah an’… Fu’ Christmas is comin’, it’s rig… An’ dey’s houahs to dance 'fo’ de… What if de win’ is taihin’ an’ whi…
Come to the pane, draw the curtain… There she is passing, the girl of… See where she walks like a queen i… Weather—defying, calm, placid and… Tripping along with impetuous grac…
THE BLACK TROOPS IN CUBA Round the wide earth, from the red… Blown with the breath of the far—s… Goes the word. Bravely you spoke through the batt…
DOLLY sits a—quilting by her mot… Gracious, how my pulses throb, how… While I note her dainty waist and… As she matches this and that, she… And I long to tell her Life’s a q…
I done got 'uligion, honey, an’ I… Evahthing I see erbout me ’s jes’… An’ it seems lak I do’ want to do… But jes’ run an’ tell de neighbour… I done shuk my fis’ at Satan, an’…
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,