Henry Clay Work Poems

'Tis The
SONG OF LITTLE MARY,
Standing at the bar-room door
While the shameful midnight revel
...

My grand-father's clock was too large for the shelf,
So it stood ninety years on the floor;
It was taller by half than the old man himself,
Though it weighed not a penny weight more.
...

On this rolling planet ever have you seen
A home so like a palace waiting for its queen? --
A dwelling place so fair,
So fill'd with treasures rare,
...

The declaration has been spoken,
For Grandmother told me so.
The darkeys have got their fetlocks broken,
For Grandmother told me so.
...

Sister! Sister! don't you remember
The days when we were young?
The long, long days, with a light and a shade
Like the pearls of a necklace strung,
...

Heavily falls the rain;
Wild are the breezes tonight;
But 'neath the roof, the hours as they fly,
Are happy and calm and bright.
...

Nicodemus, the slave was of African birth,
And was bought for a bagful of gold;
He was reckon'd as part of the salt of the earth,
But he died years ago, very old.
...

Round me now, beneath the weeping willow,
Night's refreshing breezes blow;
Anguish drove me from a sleepless pillow
Hours and hours ago.
...

Our Jimmy has gone for to live in a tent,
they have grafted him into the Army,
he finally puckered up courage and went,
when they grafted him into the Army.
...

Brother, come back! come back!
Dear brother, what can be the charm,
That holds you so strong -- that keeps you so long
Away from your father's able farm?
...