I've thought a power on men and things, As my uncle ust to say, - And ef folks don't work as they pray, i jings! W'y, they ain't no use to pray! Ef you want somepin', and jes dead-set...
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear; There is ever a something sings alway: There's the song of the lark when the skies are clear, And the song of the thrush when the skies are gray....
O were I not a clod, intent On being just an earthly thing, I'd be that rare embodiment Of Heart and Spirit, Voice and Wing, With pure, ecstatic, rapture-sent, Divinely-tender twittering...
A song of Long Ago: Sing it lightly - sing it low - Sing it softly - like the lisping of the lips we used to know When our baby-laughter spilled From the glad hearts ever filled...
Sing! gangling lad, along the brink Of wild brook-ways of shoal and deep, Where killdees dip, and cattle drink, And glinting little minnows leap! Sing! slimpsy lass who trips above...
Herein are blown from out the South Songs blithe as those of Pan's pursed mouth - As sweet in voice as, in perfume, The night-breath of magnolia-bloom....
She sang a song of May for me, Wherein once more I heard The mirth of my glad infancy - The orchard's earliest bird - The joyous breeze among the trees New-clad in leaf and bloom,...
A languid atmosphere, a lazy breeze, With labored respiration, moves the wheat From distant reaches, till the golden seas Break in crisp whispers at my feet.
The master-hand whose pencils trace This wondrous landscape of the morn, Is but the sun, whose glowing face Reflects the rapture and the grace Of inspiration Heaven-born. ...
One time, when we'z at Aunty's house - 'Way in the country! - where They's ist but woods - an' pigs, an' cows - An' all's out-doors an' air! - An' orchurd-swing; an' churry-trees -...
At Noey's house - when they arrived with him - How snug seemed everything, and neat and trim: The little picket-fence, and little gate - It's little pulley, and its little weight, -...
O we go down to sea in ships - But Hope remains behind, And Love, with laughter on his lips, And Peace, of passive mind; While out across the deeps of night, With lifted sails of prayer,...
In its color, shade and shine, 'T was a summer warm as wine, With an effervescent flavoring of flowered bough and vine, And a fragrance and a taste Of ripe roses gone to waste,...
Back from a two-years' sentence! And though it had been ten, You think, I were scarred no deeper In the eyes of my fellow-men. "My fellow-men?" Sounds like a satire, You think - and I so allow,...