Hezekiah’s Art (Joseph C Lincoln Poems)
My son Hezekiah's a painter; yes, that's the purfession he's at;An artist, I mean,--course he ain't a whitewasher or nothin' ...
My son Hezekiah's a painter; yes, that's the purfession he's at;An artist, I mean,--course he ain't a whitewasher or nothin' ...
For years I've seen the frothy lines go thund'rin' down the shore;For years the surge has tossed its kelp and ...
A stretch of hill and valley, swathed thick in robes of white,The buildings blots of blackness, the windows gems of ...
Oh, the wild November wind, How it blew!How the dead leaves rasped and rustled,Soared and sank and buzzed and bustled As they ...
From the window of the chapel softly sounds an organ's note,Through the wintry Sabbath gloaming drifting shreds of music float,And ...
Little bare feet, sunburned and brown,Patterin', patterin' up and down,Dancin' over the kitchen floor,Light as the foam-flakes on the shore,--Right ...
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