1 Tell you what I like the best - 'Long about knee-deep in June, 'Bout the time strawberries melts On the vine, some afternoon Like to jes' git out and rest, And not work at nothin' else! ...
Leedle Dutch baby haff come ter town! Jabber und jump till der day gone down - Jabber und sphlutter und sphlit hees jaws - Vot a Dutch baby dees Londsmon vas! I dink dose mout' vas leedle too vide...
When Dicky was sick In the night, and the clock, As he listened, said "Tick- Atty - tick-atty - tock!" He said that it said, Every time it said "Tick," It said "Sick," instead,...
'Twas the height of the fete when we quitted the riot, And quietly stole to the terrace alone, Where, pale as the lovers that ever swear by it, The moon it We stood there enchanted. - And O the delight of...
What is it in old fiddle-chunes 'at makes me ketch my breath And ripples up my backbone tel I'm tickled most to death? - Kindo' like that sweet-sick feelin', in the long sweep of a swing,...
Old Indiany, 'course we know Is first, and best, and most, also, Of all the States' whole forty-four: - She's first in ever'thing, that's shore! - And best in ever'way as yet...
Only a dream! Her head is bent Over the keys of the instrument, While her trembling fingers go astray In the foolish tune she tries to play. He smiles in his heart, though his deep, sad eyes...
On the banks o' Deer Crick! There's the place fer me! - Worter slidin' past ye jes as clair as it kin be: - See yer shadder in it, and the shadder o' the sky,...
"That little dog 'ud scratch at that door And go on a-whinin' two hours before He'd ever let up! There! - Jane: Let him in. - (Hah, there, you little rat!) Look at him grin! Come down off o' that! -...
Oh, the Circus-Day parade! How the bugles played and played! And how the glossy horses tossed their flossy manes, and neighed, As the rattle and the rhyme of the tenor-drummer's time...
O the days gone by! O the days gone by! The apples in the orchard, and the pathway through the rye; The chirrup of the robin, and the whistle of the quail As he piped across the meadows sweet as any nightingale;...
Long years ago, a funny man, Flushed with a strange delight, Sat down and wrote a funny thing All in the solemn night; And as he wrote he clapped his hands And laughed with all his might....
O the drum! There is some Intonation in thy grum Monotony of utterance that strikes the spirit dumb, As we hear Through the clear And unclouded atmosphere,...