#AmericanWriters
The sun has slipped his tether And galloped down the west. (Oh, it’s weary, weary waiting, lo… The little bird is sleeping In the softness of its nest.
SILENTLY without my window, Tapping gently at the pane, Falls the rain. Through the trees sighs the breeze Like a soul in pain.
A life was mine full of the close… Of many—voiced affairs. The world… Behind me, ever rolled a pregnant… A present came equipped with lore… Art, science, letters, in their tu…
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 little bird sits in the nest… A shy, soft song to the morning li… And it flutters a little and prune… The song is halting and poor and b… And the fluttering wings scarce st…
Say a mass for my soul’s repose, m… Say a mass for my soul’s repose,… Lovingly lived we, the sons of one… Mine was the sin, but I pray you… Dark were her eyes as the sloe and…
THE YOUNG MASTER ASKS… Whut you say, dah? huh, uh! chile, You 's enough to dribe me wile. Want a sto’y; jes’ hyeah dat! Whah’ 'll I git a sto’y at?
It’s hot to—day. The bees is buzz… Kinder don’t—keer—like aroun’ An’ fur off the warm air dances O’er the parchin’ roofs in town. In the brook the cows is standin’;
O li’l’ lamb out in de col’, De Mastah call you to de fol’, O li’l’ lamb! He hyeah you bleatin’ on de hill; Come hyeah an’ keep yo’ mou’nin’ s…
OH, de grubbin’—hoe’s a—rustin’ i… An’ de plow’s a—tumblin’ down in d… While de whippo’will’s a—wailin’ l… When his stubbo’n hea’t is tryin’… In de furrers whah de co’n was all…
HELLO, ole man, you’re a—gittin’… An’ it beats ole Ned to see the w… 'At the crow’s feet’s a—getherin’… Tho’ it oughtn’t to cause me no su… Fur there’s many a sun 'at you’ve…
WHAT if the wind do howl without… And turn the creaking weather—vane… What if the arrows of the rain Do beat against the window—pane? Art thou not armored strong and fa…
Across the hills and down the narr… And up the valley where the free w… The earth is folded in an ermined… That mocks the melting mirth of my… Departed her disheartening duns an…
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…
See dis pictyah in my han’? Dat’s my gal; Ain’t she purty? goodness lan’! Huh name Sal. Dat’s de very way she be—