The Writings of James Russell Lowell ...: Poems

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Printed at the Riverside Press, 1890

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第 245 頁 - Perhaps it was right to dissemble your love, But why did you kick me down stairs...
第 211 頁 - GOD makes sech nights, all white an' still Fur 'z you can look or listen, Moonshine an' snow on field an' hill, All silence an' all glisten. Zekle crep' up quite unbeknown An' peeked in thru' the winder. An' there sot Huldy all alone, 'Ith no one nigh to hender.
第 10 頁 - Zekle crep' up quite unbeknown An' peeked in thru' the winder, 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...
第 67 頁 - s ben true to one party, — an' thet is himself ; — So John P. Robinson he Sez he shall vote fer Gineral C. Gineral C. he goes in fer the war ; He don't vally principle more 'n an old cud ; Wut did God make us raytional creeturs fer, But glory an' gunpowder, plunder an
第 101 頁 - O' prayin' an' convartin' ; The bread comes back in many days, An' buttered, tu, fer sartin ; I mean in preyin' till one busts On wut the party chooses, An' in convartin' public trusts To very privit uses.
第 110 頁 - I stan' upon the Constitution, Ez preudunt statesmun say, who 've planned A way to git the most profusion 0' chances ez to -ware they '11 stand. Ez fer the war, I go agin it, — I mean to say I kind o' du, — Thet is, I mean thet, bein...
第 46 頁 - Ez fer war, I call it murder, — There you hev it plain an' flat; I don't want to go no furder Than my Testyment fer that; God hez sed so plump an' fairly, It's ez long ez it is broad, An' you've gut to git up airly Ef you want to take in God.
第 214 頁 - em slips, Huldy sot pale ez ashes, All kin' o' smily roun' the lips An' teary roun
第 211 頁 - 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 213 頁 - A-raspin' on the scraper, — All ways to once her feelins flew Like sparks in burnt-up paper. He kin' o' 1'itered on the mat, Some doubtfle o' the sekle, His heart kep' goin' pity-pat, But hern went pity Zekle.

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