I know a little country place
Where still my heart doth linger,
And o'er its fields is every grace
THE air is dark, the sky is gray,
The misty shadows come and go,
And here within my dusky room
UNCLE JOHN, he makes me tired;
Thinks 'at he's jest so all-fired
Smart, 'at he kin pick up, so,
Yes, my ha't's ez ha'd ez stone—
Go 'way, Sam, an' lemme 'lone.
No; I ain't gwine change my mi
Lay me down beneaf de willers in de grass,
Whah de branch 'll go a-singin' as it pass.
An' w'en I'
Win' a-blowin' gentle so de san' lay low,
San' a little heavy f'om de rain,
All de pa'ms a-wavin'
DE win' is blowin' wahmah,
An hit's blowin' f'om de bay;
Dey's a so't o' mist a-risin'
It may be misery not to sing at all,
And to go silent through the brimming day;
It may be misery
THE YOUNG MASTER ASKS FOR A STORY
Whut you say, dah? huh, uh! chile,
You 's enough to dribe me w
We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,--
This debt we pay
Wen de snow 's a-fallin'
An' de win' is col'.
Mammy 'mence a-callin',
Den she 'mence to scol',
They please me not-- these solemn songs
That hint of sermons covered up.
'T is true the world sh
I know what the caged bird feels, alas!
When the sun is bright on the upland slopes;
When the wi
ON the wide veranda white,
In the purple failing light,
Sits the master while the sun is lowly bur
The mist has left the greening plain,
The dew-drops shine like fairy rain,
The coquette rose awa
The Oriole sings in the greening grove
As if he were half-way waiting,
The rosebuds peep from th
I Found you and I lost you,
All on a gleaming day.
The day was filled with sunshine,
And the l
Come, essay a sprightly measure,
Tuned to some light song of pleasure.
Maidens, let your brows be
De axes has been ringin' in de woods de blessid day,
An' de chips has been a-fallin' fa' an' thick;
SWING yo' lady roun' an' roun',
Do de bes' you know;
Mek yo' bow an' p'omenade
Up an' down de flo
OH, I haven't got long to live, for we all
Die soon, e'en those who live longest;
And the poorest
'Break me my bounds, and let me fly
To regions vast of boundless sky;
Nor I, like piteous Daphne,
OH, dere's lots o' keer an' trouble
In dis world to swaller down;
An' ol' Sorrer's purty lively
If I could but forget
The fullness of those first sweet days,
When you burst sun-like thro' the
Tis fine to play
In the fragrant hay,
And romp on the golden load;
To ride old Jack
To the barn