I think that though the clouds be dark, That though the waves dash o'er the bark, Yet after while the light will come, And in calm waters safe at home The bark will anchor....
Come on walkin' wid me, Lucy; 't ain't no time to mope erroun' Wen de sunshine 's shoutin' glory in de sky, An' de little Johnny-Jump-Ups 's jes' a-springin' f'om de groun',...
"Sunshine on de medders, Greenness on de way; Dat 's de blessed reason I sing all de day." Look hyeah! Whut you axin'? Whut meks me so merry? 'Spect to see me sighin'...
Across the hills and down the narrow ways, And up the valley where the free winds sweep, The earth is folded in an ermined sleep That mocks the melting mirth of myriad Mays....
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....
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...
De way t'ings come, hit seems to me, Is des' one monst'ous mystery; De way hit seem to strike a man, Dey ain't no sense, dey ain't no plan; Ef trouble sta'ts a pilin' down,...
Seems lak folks is mighty curus In de way dey t'inks an' ac's. Dey jes' spen's dey days a-mixin' Up de t'ings in almanacs. Now, I min' my nex' do' neighbour,-- He's a mighty likely man,...
The world is a snob, and the man who wins Is the chap for its money's worth: And the lust for success causes half of the sins That are cursing this brave old earth....
How shall I woo thee to win thee, mine own? Say in what tongue shall I tell of my love. I who was fearless so timid have grown, All that was eagle has turned into dove....
Oh, de clouds is mighty heavy An' de rain is mighty thick; Keep a song up on de way. An' de waters is a rumblin' On de boulders in de crick, Keep a song up on de way. Fu' a bird ercross de road...
Not they who soar, but they who plod Their rugged way, unhelped, to God Are heroes; they who higher fare, And, flying, fan the upper air, Miss all the toil that hugs the sod....
I sit upon the old sea wall, And watch the shimmering sea, Where soft and white the moonbeams fall, Till, in a fantasy, Some pure white maiden's funeral pall The strange light seems to me. ...
Poor withered rose, she gave it me, Half in revenge and half in glee; Its petals not so pink by half As are her lips when curled to laugh, As are her cheeks when dimples gay...
Emblem of blasted hope and lost desire, No finger ever traced thy yellow page Save Time's. Thou hast not wrought to noble rage The hearts thou wouldst have stirred. Not any fire...
I 've been list'nin' to them lawyers In the court house up the street, An' I 've come to the conclusion That I'm most completely beat. Fust one feller riz to argy, An' he boldly waded in...