The Rivals (James Weldon Johnson Poems)
Look heah! Is I evah tole you 'bout de curious way I wonAnna Liza? Say, I nevah? Well heah's how ...
Look heah! Is I evah tole you 'bout de curious way I wonAnna Liza? Say, I nevah? Well heah's how ...
IOld Hezekiah leaned hard on his hoeAnd squinted long at Eben, his lank son.The silence shrilled with crickets. Day was ...
Was you at de hall las' night,To de Leap Yeah Party?I reckon dat I was,But didn't I eat hearty?I wouldn't ...
Way down Souf whar de lillies grow,Is the lan' I wants to see,En to dat lan' I specs to go,Jis ...
Well, well, you's cum at las'-Cum in and hab dis seat;Walkin's sich a tiresom' tas'I'll fix a bite to eat.It's ...
Dar's plenty t'ings to write erbout,Bof in en out ob skool,'Cept taken fo' a subject,En ol' en stubborn mule.But de ...
I remember, when a youngster, all the happy hours I spentWhen to visit Uncle Hiram in the country oft I ...
A wind's word, the Hebrew Hallelujah.I wonder they never gave it to a boy(Hal for short) boy with wind-wild hair.It ...
Come in, Aunt Jemima,Oh no,'taint wof while,I jis been out a lookin'At de wintah styles.To see de change in coats,En ...
Afters eight years, be less dan eight percent,distinguish' friend, of coloured wif de whitesin de School, in de Souf.-Is coloured ...
Eben geht mit einem TellerWitwe Bolte in den Keller,Da(Wilhelm Busch)
Old Eben Flood, climbing alone one night Over the hill between the town below And the forsaken upland hermitage That held as much as he should ever know On earth again of home, paused warily. The road was his with not a native near; And Eben, having leisure, said aloud, For no man else in Tilbury Town to hear: "Well, Mr. Flood, we have the harvest moon Again, and we may not have many more; The bird is on the wing, the poet says, And you and I have said it here before. Drink to the bird." He raised up to the light The jug that he had gone so far to fill, And answered huskily: "Well, Mr. Flood, Since you propose it, I believe I will." Alone, as if enduring to the end A valiant armor of scarred hopes outworn, He stood there in the middle of the road Like Roland's ghost winding a silent horn. Below him, in the town among the trees, Where friends of other days had honored him, A phantom salutation of the dead Rang thinly till old Eben's eyes were dim. Then, as a mother lays her sleeping child Down tenderly, fearing it may awake, He set the jug down slowly at his feet With trembling care, knowing that most things break; And only when assured that on firm earth It stood, as the uncertain lives of men Assuredly did not, he paced away, And with his hand extended paused again: "Well, Mr. Flood, we have not met like this In a long time; and many a change has come To both of us, I fear, since last it was We had a drop together. Welcome home!" Convivially returning with himself, Again he raised the jug up to the light; And with an acquiescent quaver said: "Well, Mr. Flood, if you insist, I might. "Only a very little, Mr. Flood — For auld lang syne. No more, sir; that will do." So, for the time, apparently it did, And Eben evidently thought so too; For soon amid the silver loneliness Of night he lifted up his voice and sang, Secure, with only two moons listening, Until the whole harmonious landscape rang — "For auld lang syne." The weary throat gave out, The last word wavered; and the song being done, He raised again the jug regretfully And shook his head, and was again alone. There was not much that was ahead of him, And there was nothing in the town below — Where strangers would have shut the many doors That many friends had opened long ago.(Edwin Arlington Robinson)
Merry voices chatterin',Nimble feet dem patterin',Big an' little, faces gay,Happy day dis market day.Sateday, de marnin' break,Soon, soon market-people wake;An' ...
Now Cleo, fly round! Father's going to townWith a load o' red russets, to meet Captain Brown;The mortgage is due, ...
A wind's word, the Hebrew Hallelujah. I wonder they never gave it to a boy (Hal for short) boy with ...
Afters eight years, be less dan eight percent, distinguish' friend, of coloured wif de whites in de School, in de ...
Old Eben Flood, climbing alone one night Over the hill between the town below And the forsaken upland hermitage That ...
Within this sober Frame expect Work of no Forrain Architect; That unto Caves the Quarries drew, And Forrests did to ...
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