Wunst, 'way West in Illinoise, Wuz two Bears an' their two boys: An' the two boys' names, you know,
Folks has be'n to town, and Sahry Fetched 'er home a pet canary, And of all the blame', contrary,
Pa he bringed me here to stay 'Til my Ma she's well. - An' nen He's go' hitch up, Chris'mus-day,
I have sipped, with drooping lashes, Dreamy draughts of Verzenay; I have flourished brandy-smashes
Mellow hazes, lowly trailing Over wood and meadow, veiling Somber skies, with wildfowl sailing
Lying listless in the mosses Underneath a tree that tosses Flakes of sunshine, and embosses
The afternoon of summer folds Its warm arms round the marigolds, And with its gleaming fingers, pets
Our dog Fred Et the bread. Our dog Dash
Miss Medairy Dory-Ann Cast her line and caught a man, But when he looked so pleased, alack!
[Voice from behind high board-fence.] "Where's the crowd that dares to go Where I dare to lead? - you know!"
A daring prince, of the realm Rangg Dhune, Once went up in a big balloon That caught and stuck on the horns of the moon,
AFTER LEE O. HARRIS The master-hand whose pencils trace This wondrous landscape of the morn,
I find an old deserted nest, Half-hidden in the underbrush: A withered leaf, in phantom jest,
There's a space for good to bloom in Every heart of man or woman, - And however wild or human,
Ah, Luxury! Beyond the heat And dust of town, with dangling feet, Astride the rock below the dam,
O we go down to sea in ships - But Hope remains behind, And Love, with laughter on his lips,
Old friends allus is the best, Halest-like and heartiest: Knowed us first, and don't allow
Ho! it's come, kids, come! "With a bim! bam! bum! Here's little Billy bangin' on his big bass drum!
Dan O'Sullivan: It's your Lips have kissed "The Blarney," sure! - To be trillin' praise av me,
Little Boy! Halloo! - halloo! Can't you hear me calling you? - Little Boy that used to be,
Ot's a leedle Christmas story Dot I told der leedle folks - Und I vant you stop dot laughin'
Because her eyes were far too deep And holy for a laugh to leap Across the brink where sorrow tried
Our three cats is Maltese cats, An' they's two that's white, - An' bofe of 'em's deef - an' that's
Me an' Bert an' Minnie-Belle Knows a joke, an' we won't tell! No, we don't - 'cause we don't know
Fold the little waxen hands Lightly. Let your warmest tears Speak regrets, but never fears, -
I He called her in from me and shut the door. And she so loved the sunshine and the sky! -
Tomps 'ud allus haf to say Somepin' 'bout "his mother's way." - He lived hard-like - never jined
DEAD! my wayward boy - my own - Not the Law's! but mine - the good God's free gift to me alone,
O in the depths of midnight What fancies haunt the brain! When even the sigh of the sleeper
There is a princess in the South About whose beauty rumors hum Like honey-bees about the mouth
His daily, nightly task is o'er - He leans above his desk no more. His pencil and his pen say not
A strange life - strangely passed! We may not read the soul When God has folded up the scroll
Had a hare-lip - Joney had: Spiled his looks, and Joney knowed it: Fellers tried to bore him, bad -
O her eyes are amber-fine - Dark and deep as wells of wine, While her smile is like the noon
On old Brandywine - about Where White's Lots is now laid out, And the old crick narries down
Leonainie - Angels named her; And they took the light Of the laughing stars and framed her
AFTER READING HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY POOR victim of that vulture curse That hovers o'er the universe,
A lover said, "O Maiden, love me well, For I must go away: And should ANOTHER ever come to tell
They's nothin' in the name to strike A feller more'n common like! 'Taint liable to git no praise
When Little Claude was naughty wunst At dinner-time, an' said He won't say "Thank you" to his Ma,
Of the North I wove a dream, All bespangled with the gleam Of the glancing wings of swallows
Old Bob White's a funny bird! - Funniest you ever heard! - Hear him whistle, - "Old - Bob - White!"
They ain't no style about 'em, And they're sorto' pale and faded, Yit the doorway here, without 'em,
Ho! I'm going back to where We were youngsters. - Meet me there, Dear old barefoot chum, and we
Her heart knew naught of sorrow, Nor the vaguest taint of sin - 'Twas an ever-blooming blossom
Scotty's dead - Of course he is! Jes' that same old luck of his! - Ever sence we went cahoots
I thought the deacon liked me, yit I warn't adzackly shore of it - Fer, mind ye, time and time agin,
The Beautiful City! Forever Its rapturous praises resound; We fain would behold it - but never
Blossoms crimson, white, or blue, Purple, pink, and every hue, From sunny skies, to tintings drowned
Blossoms crimson, white, or blue, Purple, pink, and every hue, From sunny skies, to tintings drowned
You who to the rounded prime Of a life of toil and stress, Still have kept the morning-time
Las' time 'at Uncle Sidney come, He bringed a watermelon home - An' half the boys in town,
Little brook! Little brook! You have such a happy look - Such a very merry manner, as you swerve and
Hereafter! O we need not waste Our smiles or tears, whatever befall: No happiness but holds a taste
No song is mine of Arab steed - My courser is of nobler blood, And cleaner limb and fleeter speed,
Here's his ragged "roundabout"; Turn the pockets inside out: See; his pen-knife, lost to use,
Neglected now is the old guitar And moldering into decay; Fretted with many a rift and scar
The Old Hay-mow's the place to play Fer boys, when it's a rainy day! I good-'eal ruther be up there
He puts the poem by, to say His eyes are not themselves to-day! A sudden glamour o'er his sight -
The man that rooms next door to me: Two weeks ago, this very night, He took possession quietly,
I so loved once, when Death came by I hid Away my face, And all my sweetheart's tresses she undid
Wunst I sassed my Pa, an' he Won't stand that, an' punished me, - Nen when he was gone that day,
The same old story told again - The maiden droops her head, The ripening glow of her crimson cheek
Thou Poet, who, like any lark, Dost whet thy beak and trill From misty morn till murky dark,
The Town Karnteel! It's who'll reveal Its praises jushtifiable? For who can sing av anything
At Union Station 'Ll where in the world my eyes has bin - Ef I hain't missed that train ag'in!
"'S cur'ous-like," said the tree-toad, "I've twittered fer rain all day; And I got up soon,
"'Scurious-like," said the tree-toad, "I've twittered far rain all day; And I got up soon,
The stars are falling, and the sky Is like a field of faded flowers; The winds on weary wings go by;
The stars are failing, and the sky Is like a field of faded flowers; The winds on weary wings go by;
I've ben thinkin' back, of late, S'prisin'! - And I'm here to state I'm suspicious it's a sign
Tommy's alluz playin' jokes, An' actin' up, an' foolin' folks; An' wunst one time he creep
Always suddenly they are gone - The friends we trusted and held secure - Suddenly we are gazing on,
INSCRIBED IN "TALES OF THE OCEAN" This first book that I ever knew Was read aloud to me by you -
When the lids of dusk are falling O'er the dreamy eyes of day, And the whippoorwills are calling,
Sweet Singer that I loe the maist O' ony, sin' wi' eager haste I smacket bairn-lips ower the taste
Dimple-cheeked and rosy-lipped, With his cap-rim backward tipped, Still in fancy I can see
'I muse to-day, in a listless way, In the gleam of a summer land; I close my eyes as a lover may
When Age comes on! - "The deepening dusk is where the dawn Once glittered splendid, and the dew
"Where shall we land you, sweet?" - Swinburne. All listlessly we float Out seaward in the boat
O the Lands of Where-Away! Tell us - tell us - where are they? Through the darkness and the dawn
Who bides his time, and day by day Faces defeat full patiently, And lifts a mirthful roundelay,