Underneath an apple-tree Sat a dame of comely seeming, With her work upon her knee, And her great eyes idly dreaming. O'er the harvest-acres bright, Came her husband's din of reaping;...
Here - am I here? Or is it fancy, born of fear? Yes - O God, save me! - this is I, And not some wretch of whom I've read, In that bright girlhood, when the sky...
My business on the jury's done--the quibblin' all is through-- I've watched the lawyers right and left, and give my verdict true; I stuck so long unto my chair, I thought I would grow in;...
I've worked in the field all day, a-plowin' the "stony streak;" I've scolded my team till I'm hoarse; I've tramped till my legs are weak; I've choked a dozen swears (so's not to tell Jane fibs)...
The Editor sat in his sanctum, his countenance furrowed with care, His mind at the bottom of business, his feet at the top of a chair, His chair-arm an elbow supporting, his right hand upholding his head,...
Tom was goin' for a poet, an' said he'd a poet be; One of these long-haired fellers a feller hates to see; One of these chaps forever fixin' things cute and clever;...