Works

I.

In reel, in waltz, in lancer's maze,
She moved with pretty air of grace,
And all the ball-room's brilliant blaze
Seemed borrowed brightness from her face!
O, winsome maid, demure and sweet!...

Some sing of the lily, some sing of the rose,
Some sing of each flower in beauty that blows;
But sing me a song that shall render its meed
To the fragrance and aroma found in a weed,...

Where the Cumberland flows on its way to the South,
From its source in the hills half-way to its mouth--
When Autumn has come and tempered the rays
Of the hot blazing sun with its soft mellow haze,...

You may boast about the landscapes fair so far across the sea
Of castled Rhine, and southern France, and favored Italy--
But have you seen, when Springtime flings the scented blossoms down,...

I.

"I'll tell yer what," said Uncle Zeke, down at the country store,
"I'd been a farmer all my life--fur twenty year or more--
Until one day my noddle here, it got plumb out o' fix,...

(With Apologies To Riley.)


I.

As one who dreams at evening o'er the new hats that he's worn,
And muses on the better times that once to him were known,...

By magic spell was I entranced
When on me first thy brown eyes glanced,
And sunbeams played at hide and seek
Thro' silken ringlets on thy dimpling cheek,
And like some glorious halo shed...

I.

O the hills of old Lincoln!--I can see them to-day
As they stretch in dim distance far, far away,
And on Fancy's swift pinions my spirit hath flown...

It hangs today where it has hung for fifty years or more,
But some who loved its silver tones the church-yard covers o'er,
And many are the times since then, with deep and solemn knell,...

I.

O don't you remember those days so divine,
Around which the heart-strings all tenderly twine,
When with sapling pole and a painted cork
We fished up and down the old Hanging Fork--...

With its rude walls of stone and its moss-covered roof--
('Tis a picture inwoven with memory's woof)--
It stands there to-day, as it stood in the years
When we knew naught of sorrow--nor anguish--nor tears;...

Bright visions of childhood! How dear to the heart
Are the scenes which from memory can never depart!
Undimmed by the sorrows, the grief and the tears
Which have shadowed the pathway of life's later years,...

I.

When the chilling winds of Winter come a-knocking at the door,
And the fleecy flakes are flying and the earth is covered o'er,
And you've supped on sweet potatoes and a 'possum frosted ripe,...