We got up a Christmas-doin's Last Christmas Eve - Kindo' dimonstration 'At I railly believe Give more satisfaction - Take it up and down - Than ary intertainment Ever come to town! ...
He was a Dreamer of the Days: Indolent as a lazy breeze Of midsummer, in idlest ways Lolling about in the shade of trees. The farmer turned - as he passed him by...
I am not prone to moralize In scientific doubt On certain facts that Nature tries To puzzle us about, - For I am no philosopher Of wise elucidation, But speak of things as they occur,...
"They ain't much 'tale' about it!" Noey said. - "K'tawby grapes wuz gittin' good-n-red I rickollect; and Tubb Kingry and me 'Ud kindo' browse round town, daytime, to see...
This Pan is but an idle god, I guess, Since all the fair midsummer of my dreams He loiters listlessly by woody streams, Soaking the lush glooms up with laziness; Or drowsing while the maiden-winds caress...
Young Philiper Flash was a promising lad, His intentions were good - but oh, how sad For a person to think How the veriest pink And bloom of perfection may turn out bad....
The pipes of Pan! Not idler now are they Than when their cunning fashioner first blew The pith of music from them: Yet for you And me their notes are blown in many a way...
I saw a man - and envied him beside - Because of this world's goods he had great store; But even as I envied him, he died, And left me envious of him no more.
What makes you come HERE fer, Mister, So much to our house? - SAY? Come to see our big sister! - An' Charley he says 'at you kissed her An' he ketched you, th'uther day! -...
A quite convincing axiom Is, "Life is like a play"; For, turning back its pages some Few dog-eared years away, I find where I Committed my Love-tale - with brackets where to sigh. ...
Where are they - the Afterwhiles - Luring us the lengthening miles Of our lives? Where is the dawn With the dew across the lawn Stroked with eager feet the far Way the hills and valleys are?...
Most-like it was this kingly lad Spake out of the pure joy he had In his child-heart of the wee maid Whose eerie beauty sudden laid A spell upon him, and his words...
Say farewell, and let me go; Shatter every vow! All the future can bestow Will be welcome now! And if this fair hand I touch I have worshipped overmuch, It was my mistake - and so,...
O Printerman of sallow face, And look of absent guile, Is it the 'copy' on your 'case' That causes you to smile? Or is it some old treasure scrap You call from Memory's file? ...
I want to be a Soldier! - A Soldier! - A Soldier! - I want to be a Soldier, with a sabre in my hand Or a little carbine rifle, or a musket on my shoulder,...
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...
When we hear Uncle Sidney tell About the long-ago An' old, old friends he loved so well When he was young - My-oh! - Us childern all wish we'd 'a' bin A-livin' then with Uncle, - so...
The little old poem that nobody reads Blooms in a crowded space, Like a ground-vine blossom, so low in the weeds That nobody sees its face - Unless, perchance, the reader's eye...
Alone they walked - their fingers knit together, And swaying listlessly as might a swing Wherein Dan Cupid dangled in the weather Of some sun-flooded afternoon of Spring. ...
O touch me with your hands - For pity's sake! My brow throbs ever on with such an ache As only your cool touch may take away; And so, I pray You, touch me with your hands! ...