De axes has been ringin' in de woods de blessid day, An' de chips has been a-fallin' fa' an' thick; Dey has cut de bigges' hick'ry dat de mules kin tote away, An' dey's laid hit down and soaked it in de crik....
Oh, dere 's lots o' keer an' trouble In dis world to swaller down; An' ol' Sorrer 's purty lively In her way o' gittin' roun'. Yet dere's times when I furgit em,-- Aches an' pains an' troubles all,--...
Oh, I have n't got long to live, for we all Die soon, e'en those who live longest; And the poorest and weakest are taking their chance Along with the richest and strongest....
'Tis fine to play In the fragrant hay, And romp on the golden load; To ride old Jack To the barn and back, Or tramp by a shady road. To pause and drink, At a mossy brink;...
De win' is hollahin' "Daih you" to de shuttahs an' de fiah, De snow's a-sayin' "Got you" to de groun', Fu' de wintah weathah 's come widout a-askin' ouah desiah, An' he 's laughin' in his sleeve at whut he foun';...
We is gathahed hyeah, my brothahs, In dis howlin' wildaness, Fu' to speak some words of comfo't To each othah in distress. An' we chooses fu' ouah subjic' Dis--we'll 'splain it by an' by;...
I know my love is true, And oh the day is fair. The sky is clear and blue, The flowers are rich of hue, The air I breathe is rare, I have no grief or care; For my own love is true,...
By Mystic's banks I held my dream. (I held my fishing rod as well,) The vision was of dace and bream, A fruitless vision, sooth to tell. But round about the sylvan dell...
As in some dim baronial hall restrained, A prisoner sits, engirt by secret doors And waving tapestries that argue forth Strange passages into the outer air; So in this dimmer room which we call life,...
Home agin, an' home to stay-- Yes, it's nice to be away. Plenty things to do an' see, But the old place seems to me Jest about the proper thing. Mebbe 'ts 'cause the mem'ries cling...
Beyond the years the answer lies, Beyond where brood the grieving skies And Night drops tears. Where Faith rod-chastened smiles to rise And doff its fears,...
"In the fight at Brandywine, Black Samson, a giant negro armed with a scythe, sweeps his way through the red ranks...." C. M. Skinner's "Myths and Legends of Our Own Land."
Standin' at de winder, Feelin' kind o' glum, Listenin' to de raindrops Play de kettle drum, Lookin' crost de medders Swimmin' lak a sea; Lawd 'a' mussy on us, What's de good o' me? ...
The word is writ that he who runs may read. What is the passing breath of earthly fame? But to snatch glory from the hands of blame-- That is to be, to live, to strive indeed....
Caught Susanner whistlin'; well, It's most nigh too good to tell. 'Twould 'a' b'en too good to see Ef it had n't b'en fur me, Comin' up so soft an' sly That she didn' hear me nigh....
By rugged ways and thro' the night We struggle blindly toward the light; And groping, stumbling, ever pray For sight of long delaying day. The cruel thorns beside the road...
By the stream I dream in calm delight, and watch as in a glass, How the clouds like crowds of snowy-hued and white-robed maidens pass, And the water into ripples breaks and sparkles as it spreads,...
She told the story, and the whole world wept At wrongs and cruelties it had not known But for this fearless woman's voice alone. She spoke to consciences that long had slept:...
De times is mighty stirrin' 'mong de people up ouah way, Dey 'sputin' an' dey argyin' an' fussin' night an' day; An' all dis monst'ous trouble dat hit meks me tiahed to tell...