Poems by Francis Bret Harte
Half An Hour Before Supper
... With something, if not quite so fair, at least more en regle and real ...
The Heathen Chinee
... With the smile that was childlike and bland ...
Avitor
... Avitor! What fairy tales seemed things of course! ...
The Society Upon The Stanislaus
... Till he could prove that those same bones was one of his lost mules ...
Concepcion De Arguello
... Still it brought no ship nor message,--brought no tidings, ill or meet, ...
On A Cone Of The Big Trees
... As throng thy friend's--the poet's--table: ...
Songs Without Sense: [For the Parlor and Piano]
... Though Friendships offering buried lies ...
What The Chimney Sang
... "`Tis some witch that is cleaving the black night through, ...
The Tale Of A Pony
... There! That's her photograph, done with care ...
The Idyl Of Battle Hollow
... And it's "Belle, tell us, do!" and it's "Belle, is it true ...
The Ritualist
... JAMES'S") He wore, I think, a chasuble, the day when first we met ...
Twenty Years
... for at ten Faith asks less to aid her than when ...
The Ghost That Jim Saw
... Back we ran, And--darn my skin!--but thar WAS a man ...
The Birds Of Cirencester
... Of their homes and their fledgelings--that they loved the best ...
California's Greeting To Seward
... That burned through years of war and shame, ...
