Our Yard (Joseph Pullman Porter Poems)
You ought'er come over to our yard.Oh boy! But we have fun!We've got a dandy place to playAn' when our ...
You ought'er come over to our yard.Oh boy! But we have fun!We've got a dandy place to playAn' when our ...
They say that life's just what we make it.Each one guides the course of his soul:From the childhood port to ...
'Still sits the schoolhouse by the road,A ragged beggar sunning,Around it still the sumacs growAnd blackberry vines are running.'A poet ...
Under the pines, near the murmuring brook,I know the wild orchids grow,Fair and pure in their shady nook,A page in ...
He paused where the river meets the wood,And watched on its limpid planeThe light of reflected sunset;White clouds amidst the ...
Crispy air and azure skies,High above, a white cloud flies,Bright as newly fallen snow.Oh the joy to those who know ...
I am dreaming tonight by my fireside,Of my pal and those days long ago;When together we roamed through the woodland,When ...
March! And the brook still ice-bound,And grass all brown and grey.From a leafless tree comes a rasping sound,The cry of ...
At times, the mind speaks forth its pleasureAnd clothes its thoughts in pigment or in rhyme.The artist leaves the world ...
When skies are black instead of azure blueAnd all the world seems sadly out of tune,Memory's immortal pictures, I review,And ...
Under the sunset's golden ray,Yonder mountain, green and gray,Transforms to a delicate purple hue,Then, subtly fading out of view,Blends with ...
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