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!...

(Read Before A Meeting Of The Danville Scribbler Club.)


Dear friends, to-night the inspiration of my theme
Is not the baseless fabric of a weird, fantastic dream--...

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,...

Sweet Memory! thou faculty divine--
Triumphant o'er the cruel hand of Time!
On thy tablets we may trace
The lines his fingers ne'er efface,
And take with us till latest day...

(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,...

When the burning sun of Summer shines from out a brassy sky,
And has parched and browned the meadows, and the creek's run dry,
O sweet it is to wander there and hear the water sing...

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...

The Springtime am a-comin', and the dogwood soon will bloom,
With the blossoms ten times thicker than the green leaves are in June,
And if yer want some pleasure that I nominate divine,...

I.

With fleet-limbed steeds and baying pack
They follow close on Reynard's track,
And wake the slumbering echoes round
With music of the horn and hound;
Through wood and field, o'er hill and dale,...

By the waters of a river, where the rocks like giants stand,
There a stranger, young and favored, built a home with his own hand.

Hewed the logs and reared the roof-tree, where for years alone he dwelt,...

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...

I.

It led adown the sloping hill, and through the valley wound,
And where the blooming clover shed its fragrance all around,
And then between the maple trees, across the little brook,...

I.

Let tipplers all boast of the pleasure divine
That is found in old whisky, in beer and in wine--
But what are all those to a feller who knows
Where the "Medical Spring" in its purity flows,...

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;...

I.

The winds were hushed, and thin and high
The fleecy clouds were drifting,
And through them as she sailed the sky
The moon's soft light was sifting.


II.
...

No matter what the weather was, in good old stage coach days,
The driver with his ruddy face and spanking team of bays
Would spin along the turnpike road, o'er level stretch and hill,...

I.

Only a ringlet of flaxen hair,
Tied with a ribbon blue,
Laid by the hand of a mother there--
Cherished with love so true!


II.

Only a soft and silken curl,...