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agin aint believe Biglow clear comes common critic don't door doubt ears fact father fear feel feller fire folks give grow half hand hard head hear heart hope human it's Jaalam jest John keep kind Knott leave less letters live look matter mean mind natural never night North once perhaps person poet poor present question reader rest round safe seemed side sometimes sort soul sound speak spirits stand sure tell there's thet thet's thing thought tion took true truth turn twas verse volume whole wish wonder write young
第 172 頁 - Polk, you know, he is our country. An' the angel thet writes all our sins in a book Puts the debit to him, an' to us the per contry; An' John P. Robinson he Sez this is his view o
第 104 頁 - An' there sot Huldy all alone, 'ith no one nigh to hender. A fireplace filled the room's one side With half a cord o' wood in — There warn't no stoves (tell comfort died) To bake ye to a puddin'. The wa'nut logs shot sparkles out Towards the pootiest, bless her, An' leetle flames danced all about The chiny on the dresser.
第 152 頁 - S'pose the crows wun't fall to pickin' All the carkiss from your bones, Coz you helped to give a lickin' To them poor half-Spanish drones? Jest go home an...
第 173 頁 - Our true country is that ideal realm which we represent to ourselves under the names of religion, duty, and the like. Our terrestrial organizations are but far-off approaches to SO fair a model, and all they are verily traitors who resist not any attempt to divert them from this their original intendment. When, therefore, one would have us to fling up our caps and shout with the multitude, — "Our cowntry, however bounded!
第 210 頁 - 11 keep the people in blindness,— Thet we the Mexicuns can thrash Eight inter brotherly kindness, Thet bombshells, grape, an' powder 'n' ball Air good-will's strongest magnets, Thet peace, to make it stick at all, Must be druv in with bagnets. In short, I firmly du believe In Humbug generally, Fer it's a thing thet I perceive To hev a solid vally; This heth my faithful shepherd ben, In pasturs sweet heth led me, An' this '11 keep the people green To feed ez they hev fed me.
第 90 頁 - Nature fits all her children with something to do, He who would write and can't write can surely review, Can set up a small booth as critic and sell us his Petty conceit and his pettier jealousies ; Thus a lawyer's apprentice, just out of his teens, Will do for the Jeffrey of six magazines ; Having read Johnson's lives of the poets half through...
第 199 頁 - Sez John C. Calhoun, sez he; — "Fer all thet," sez Mangum, " T would be better to hang 'em, An' so git red on 'em soon," sez he. "The mass ough' to labor an' we lay on soffies, Thet's the reason I want to spread Freedom's aree; It puts all the cunninest on us in office. An' reelises our Maker's orig'nal idee,
第 219 頁 - Ez fer the war, I go agin it, — I mean to say I kind o' du, — Thet is, I mean thet, bein' in it, The best way wuz to fight it thru ; Not but wut abstract war is horrid, I sign to thet with all my heart, — But civlyzation doos git forrid Sometimes upon a powder-cart. About thet darned Proviso matter I never hed a grain o' doubt, Nor I aint one my sense to scatter So 'st no one could n't pick it out ; My love fer North an...
第 151 頁 - Trainin' round in bobtail coats, — But it's curus Christian dooty This 'ere cuttin' folks's throats. They may talk o' Freedom's airy Tell they're pupple in the face,^ It's a grand gret cemetary Fer the barthrights of our race; They jest want this Californy So's to lug new slave-states in To abuse ye, an' to scorn ye, An