Some peoples thinks they ain't no Fairies now No more yet! - But they is, I bet! 'Cause ef They wuzn't Fairies, nen I' like to know Who'd w'ite 'bout Fairies in the books, an' tell...
When frost's all on our winder, an' the snow's All out-o'-doors, our "Old-Kriss"-milkman goes A-drivin' round, ist purt'-nigh froze to death, With his old white mustache froze full o' breath. ...
My little story, Cousin Rufus said, Is not so much a story as a fact. It is about a certain willful boy - An aggrieved, unappreciated boy, Grown to dislike his own home very much,...
Dan O'Sullivan: It's your Lips have kissed "The Blarney," sure! - To be trillin' praise av me, Dhrippin' swhate wid poethry! - Not that I'd not have ye sing - Don't lave off for anything -...
How many of my selves are dead? The ghosts of many haunt me: Lo, The baby in the tiny bed With rockers on, is blanketed And sleeping in the long ago; And so I ask, with shaking head,...
Of all the doctors I could cite you to in this-'ere town Doc Sifers is my favorite, jes' take him up and down! Count in the Bethel Neighberhood, and Rollins, and Big Bear,...
Dreamer, say, will you dream for me A wild sweet dream of a foreign land, Whose border sips of a foaming sea With lips of coral and silver sand; Where warm winds loll on the shady deeps,...
All seemed delighted, though the elders more, Of course, than were the children. - Thus, before Much interchange of mirthful compliment, The story-teller said his stories "went"...
For the sake of guilty conscience, and the heart that ticks the time Of the clockworks of my nature, I desire to say that I'm A weak and sinful creature, as regards my daily walk...
Pap's got his patent-right, and rich is all creation; But where's the peace and comfort that we all had before? Le's go a-visitin' back to Griggsby's Station - Back where we ust to be so happy and so pore! ...
Has she forgotten? On this very May We were to meet here, with the birds and bees, As on that Sabbath, underneath the trees We strayed among the tombs, and stripped away...
Tomps 'ud allus haf to say Somepin' 'bout "his mother's way." - He lived hard-like - never jined Any church of any kind. - "It was Mother's way," says he, "To be good enough fer me...
I crave, dear Lord, No boundless hoard Of gold and gear, Nor jewels fine, Nor lands, nor kine, Nor treasure-heaps of anything. Let but a little hut be mine Where at the hearthstone I may hear...
There is a princess in the South About whose beauty rumors hum Like honey-bees about the mouth Of roses dewdrops falter from; And O her hair is like the fine Clear amber of a jostled wine...
I can't extend to every friend In need a helping hand - No matter though I wish it so, 'Tis not as Fortune planned; But haply may I fancy they Are men of different stripe...
"When it's got to be," - like! always say, As I notice the years whiz past, And know each day is a yesterday, When we size it up, at last, - Same as I said when my boyhood went...
The world is turned ag'in' me, And people says, "They guess That nothin' else is in me But pure maliciousness!" I git the blame for doin' What other chaps destroy, And I'm a-goin' to ruin...