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395 Works of James Whitcomb Riley

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Being His Mother

Story type: Poetry

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Being his mother–when he goes awayI would not hold him overlong, and soSometimes my yielding sight of him grows OSo quick of tears, I joy he did not stayTo catch the faintest rumor of them! Nay,Leave always his eyes clear and glad, althoughMine own, dear Lord, do fill to overflow;Let his remembered features, as I […]

The old sea captain has sailed the seasSo long, that the waves at mirth,Or the waves gone wild, and the crests of these,Were as near playmates from birth:He has loved both the storm and the calm, becauseThey seemed as his brothers twain,–The flapping sail was his soul’s applause,And his rapture, the roaring main. But now–like […]

What intuition named thee?–Through what thrillOf the awed soul came the command divineInto the mother-heart, foretelling thineShould palpitate with his whose raptures willSing on while daisies bloom and lavrocks trillTheir undulating ways up through the fineFair mists of heavenly reaches? Thy pure lineFalls as the dew of anthems, quiring stillThe sweeter since the Scottish singer […]

Right here at home, boys, in old Hoosierdom,Where strangers allus joke us when they come,And brag o’ their old States and interprize–Yit settle here; and ‘fore they realize,They’re “hoosier” as the rest of us, and liveRight here at home, boys, with their past fergive! Right here at home, boys, is the place, I guess,Fer me […]

The Shoemaker

Story type: Poetry

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Thou Poet, who, like any lark,Dost whet thy beak and trillFrom misty morn till murky dark,Nor ever pipe thy fill:Hast thou not, in thy cheery note,One poor chirp to confer–One verseful twitter to devoteUnto the Shoe-ma-ker? At early dawn he doth peg inHis noble work and brave;And eke from cark and wordly sinHe seeketh soles […]

Blind

Story type: Poetry

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You think it is a sorry thingThat I am blind. Your pityingIs welcome to me; yet indeed,I think I have but little needOf it. Though you may marvel muchThat we, who see by sense of touchAnd taste and hearing, see things youMay never look upon; and trueIs it that even in the scentOf blossoms we […]

In its color, shade and shine,‘T was a summer warm as wine,With an effervescent flavoring of flowered bough and vine,And a fragrance and a tasteOf ripe roses gone to waste,And a dreamy sense of sun- and moon- and star-light interlaced. ‘Twas a summer such as broodsO’er enchanted solitudes,Where the hand of Fancy leads us through […]

A Full Harvest

Story type: Poetry

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Seems like a feller’d ort ‘o jes’ to-dayGit down and roll and waller, don’t you know,In that-air stubble, and flop up and crow,Seein’ sich craps! I’ll undertake to sayThere’re no wheat’s ever turned out thatawayAfore this season!–Folks is keerless tho’,And too fergitful–‘caze we’d ort ‘o showMore thankfulness!–Jes’ looky hyonder, hey?–And watch that little reaper wadin’ […]

Iry an’ Billy an’ Jo!–Iry an’ Billy’s the boys,An’ Jo’s their dog, you know,–Their pictures took all in a row.Bet they kin kick up a noise–Iry and Billy, the boys,And that-air little dog Jo! Iry’s the one ‘at standsUp there a-lookin’ so mildAn’ meek–with his hat in his hands,Like such a ‘bediant child–(Sakes-alive!)–An’ Billy he […]

All hope of rest withdrawn me?–What dread command hath putThis awful curse upon me–The curse of the wandering foot!Forward and backward and thither,And hither and yon again–Wandering ever! And whither?Answer them, God! Amen. The blue skies are far o’er me—The bleak fields near below:Where the mother that bore me?–Where her grave in the snow?–Glad in […]

A monument for the Soldiers!And what will ye build it of?Can ye build it of marble, or brass, or bronze,Outlasting the Soldiers’ love?Can ye glorify it with legendsAs grand as their blood hath writFrom the inmost shrine of this land of thineTo the outermost verge of it? And the answer came: We would build itOut […]

I thought the deacon liked me, yitI warn’t adzackly shore of it–Fer, mind ye, time and time agin,When jiners ‘ud be comin’ in,I’d seed him shakin’ hands as freeWith all the sistern as with me!But jurin’ last Revival, whereHe called on me to lead in prayer,An’ kneeled there with me, side by side,A-whisper’n’ “he felt […]

To The Serenader

Story type: Poetry

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Tinkle on, O sweet guitar,Let the dancing fingersLoiter where the low notes areBlended with the singer’s:Let the midnight pour the moon’sMellow wine of gloryDown upon him through the tune’sOld romantic story! I am listening, my love,Through the cautious lattice,Wondering why the stars aboveAll are blinking at us;Wondering if his eyes from thereCatch the moonbeam’s shimmerAs […]

His Vigil

Story type: Poetry

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Close the book and dim the light,I shall read no more to-night.No–I am not sleepy, dear–Do not go: sit by me hereIn the darkness and the deepSilence of the watch I keep.Something in your presence soSoothes me–as in long agoI first felt your hand–as now–In the darkness touch my brow;I’ve no other wish than youThus […]

First the teacher called the roll,Clos’t to the beginnin’,“Addeliney Bowersox!”Set the school a-grinnin’.Wintertime, and stingin’-coldWhen the session took up–Cold as we all looked at her,Though she couldn’t look up! Total stranger to us, too–Country-folks ain’t allusNigh so shameful unpoliteAs some people call us!–But the honest facts is, then,Addeliney Bower-Sox’s feelin’s was so hurtShe cried half […]

O the waiting in the watches of the night!In the darkness, desolation, and contrition and affright;The awful hush that holds us shut away from all delight:The ever weary memory that ever weary goesRecounting ever over every aching loss it knows–The ever weary eyelids gasping ever for repose–In the dreary, weary watches of the night! Dark–stifling […]

Them Flowers

Story type: Poetry

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Take a feller ‘at’s sick and laid up on the shelf,All shaky, and ga’nted, and pore–Jes all so knocked out he can’t handle hisselfWith a stiff upper-lip any more;Shet him up all alone in the gloom of a roomAs dark as the tomb, and as grim,And then take and send him some roses in bloom,And […]

The Quiet Lodger

Story type: Poetry

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The man that rooms next door to me:Two weeks ago, this very night,He took possession quietly,As any other lodger might–But why the room next mine should soAttract him I was vexed to know,–Because his quietude, in fine,Was far superior to mine. “Now, I like quiet, truth to tell,A tranquil life is sweet to me–But this,” […]

Dot Leedle Boy

Story type: Poetry

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Ot’s a leedle Christmas storyDot I told der leedle folks–Und I vant you stop dot laughin’Und grackin’ funny jokes’–So-help me Peter-Moses!Ot’s no time for monkeyshine’,Ober I vas told you somedingsOf dot leedle boy of mine! Ot vas von cold Vinter vedder,Ven der snow vas all about–Dot you have to chop der hatchetEef you got der […]

Donn Piatt–of Mac-o-chee,–Not the one of History,Who, with flaming tongue and pen,Scathes the vanities of men;Not the one whose biting witCuts pretense and etches itOn the brazen brow that daresFilch the laurel that it wears:Not the Donn Piatt whose praiseEchoes in the noisy waysOf the faction, onward ledBy the statesman!–But, instead,Give the simple man to […]