Days git wa'm an' wa'mah, School gits mighty dull, Seems lak dese hyeah teachahs Mus' feel mussiful. Hookey's wrong, I know it Ain't no gent'man's trick; But de aih's a-callin',...
Lawzy! don't I rickollect That-'air old swing in the lane! Right and proper, I expect, Old times can't come back again; But I want to state, ef they Could come back, and I could say...
If rich designs of sumptuous art may please, Or Nature's loftier views, august and old, Stranger! behold this spreading scene; behold This amphitheatre of aged trees, That solemn wave above thee, and around...
A bushman got lost in a scrub in the North, And all the long morning the searchers went forth. They swore at the rain that had washed out the tracks And left not a trace for the eyes of the blacks;...
Once on a Lord Mayor's Day, in Cheapside, when Skulls could not well pass through that scum of men, For quick despatch Skulls made no longer stay Than but to breathe, and everyone gave way;...
We cover thee, sweet face. Not that we tire of thee, But that thyself fatigue of us; Remember, as thou flee, We follow thee until Thou notice us no more, And then, reluctant, turn away...
Weep, weep for him, the Man of God--[1] In yonder vale he sunk to rest; But none of earth can point the sod[2] That flowers above his sacred breast. Weep, children of Israel, weep! ...
'Tis my happiness below Not to live without the cross, But the Saviour's power to know, Sanctifying every loss: Trials must and will befall; But with humble faith to see...
We welcome thy coming, bright, sunny Spring, To this snow-clad land of ours, For sunshine and music surround thy steps, Thy pathway is strewn with flowers; And vainly stern Winter, with brow of gloom,...
Chicago sounds rough to the maker of verse; One comfort we have - Cincinnati sounds worse; If we only were licensed to say Chicago! But Worcester and Webster won't let us, you know. ...
We two boys together clinging, One the other never leaving, Up and down the roads going, North and South excursions making, Power enjoying, elbows stretching, fingers clutching,...
Wintertime, er Summertime, Of late years I notice I'm, Kindo'-like, more subjec' to What the weather is. Now, you Folks 'at lives in town, I s'pose, Thinks its bully when it snows;...