#AmericanWriters
When first of wise old Johnson ta… My youthful mind its homage brough… And made the pond’rous crusty sage The object of a noble rage. Nor did I think (How dense we are…
I am the mother of sorrows, I am the ender of grief; I am the bud and the blossom, I am the late—falling leaf. I am thy priest and thy poet,
Out of my heart, one day, I wrote… With my heart’s blood imbued, Instinct with passion, tremulously… With grief subdued; Breathing a fortitude
Love of home, sublimest passion That the human heart can know! Changeless still, though fate and… Rise and fall and ebb and flow, To the glory of our nation,
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…
I know what the caged bird feels,… When the sun is bright on the upla… When the wind stirs soft through t… And the river flows like a stream… When the first bird sings and the…
GRANNY’S gone a—visitin’, Seen huh git huh shawl W’en I was a—hidin’ down Hime de gyahden wall. Seen huh put her bonnet on,
FU’ de peace o’ my eachin’ heels,… Don’ fiddle dat chune no mo’. Don’ you see how dat melody stuhs… An’ baigs me to tek to de flo’? You knows I’s a Christian, good a…
KNOW you, winds that blow your c… Down the verdant valleys, That somewhere you must, perforce, Kiss the brow of Alice? When her gentle face you find,
GOOD hunting! —aye, good hunting… Wherever the forests call; But ever a heart beats hot with fe… And what of the birds that fall? Good hunting! —aye, good hunting,
‘In the fight at Brandywine, Blac… a scythe, sweeps his way through t… '_Myths and Legends of Our Own L… Gray are the pages of record, Dim are the volumes of eld;
'TWAS three an’ thirty year ago, I When I was ruther young, you kn… I had my last an’ only fight About a gal one summer night. 'Twas me an’ Zekel Johnson; Zeke
SINCE I left the city’s heat For this sylvan, cool retreat, High upon the hill—side here Where the air is clean and clear, I have lost the urban ways.
TELL your love where the roses b… And the hearts of the lilies quive… Not in the city’s gleam and glow, But down by a half—sunned river. Not in the crowded ball—room’s gla…
Oh, wind of the spring—time, oh, f… When blossoms and bird—song are ri… Oh, joy for the season, and joy fo… That gave me the roses of life, of… That gave me the roses of life.