Section: «Poems»
Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings:
artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.);
a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").
The Old Tramp
A Old Tramp slep' in our stable wunst,An' The Raggedy Man he caughtAn' roust him up, an' chased him offClean out through our back lot!An' th' Old..
© James Whitcomb Riley
The Little Town O' Tailholt
You kin boast about yer cities, and their stiddy growth and size,And brag about yer County-seats, and business enterprise,And railroads, and..
© James Whitcomb Riley
The Sermon Of The Rose
Wilful we are in our infirmityOf childish questioning and discontent.Whate'er befalls us is divinely meant--Thou Truth the clearer for thy..
© James Whitcomb Riley
The Same Old Story
The same old story told again--The maiden droops her head,The ripening glow of her crimson cheekIs answering in her stead.The pleading tone of a..
© James Whitcomb Riley
The Old-Home Folks
Such was the Child-World of the long-ago--The little world these children used to know:--Johnty, the oldest, and the best, perhaps,Of the five happy..
© James Whitcomb Riley
The Pet Coon
Noey Bixler ketched him, and fetched him in to meWhen he's ist a little teenty-weenty baby-coon'Bout as big as little pups, an' tied him to a..
© James Whitcomb Riley
Right Here At Home
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_..
© James Whitcomb Riley
When Age Comes On
When Age comes on!--'The deepening dusk is where the dawnOnce glittered splendid, and the dewIn honey-drips, from red rose-lipsWas kissed away by me..
© James Whitcomb Riley
We Are Not Always Glad When We Smile
We are not always glad when we smile:Though we wear a fair face and are gay,And the world we deceiveMay not ever believeWe could laugh in a happier..
© James Whitcomb Riley
To The Judge
_A Voice From the Interior of Old Hoop-Pole Township_Friend of my earliest youth,Can't you arrange to come downAnd visit a fellow out here in the..
© James Whitcomb Riley
To Annie
When the lids of dusk are fallingO'er the dreamy eyes of day,And the whippoorwills are calling,And the lesson laid away,--May Mem'ry soft and..
© James Whitcomb Riley
The Watches Of The Night
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..
© James Whitcomb Riley
Red Riding-Hood
Sweet little myth of the nursery story--Earliest love of mine infantile breast,Be something tangible, bloom in thy gloryInto existence, as thou art..
© James Whitcomb Riley
The Rain
I.The rain! the rain! the rain!It gushed from the skies and streamedLike awful tears; and the sick man thoughtHow pitiful it seemed!And he turned his..
© James Whitcomb Riley
The Pixy People
It was just a veryMerry fairy dream!--All the woods were airyWith the gloom and gleam;Crickets in the cloverClattered clear and strong,And the bees..
© James Whitcomb Riley
The Old Trundle-Bed
O the old trundle-bed where I slept when a boy!What canopied king might not covet the joy?The glory and peace of that slumber of mine,Like a long..
© James Whitcomb Riley
The Sphinx
I know all about the Sphinx--I know even what she thinks,Staring with her stony eyesUp forever at the skies.For last night I dreamed that sheTold me..
© James Whitcomb Riley
The Lost Kiss
I put by the half-written poem,While the pen, idly trailed in my hand,Writes on--, 'Had I words to complete it,Who'd read it, or who'd..
© James Whitcomb Riley
The Lugubrious Whing-Whang
The rhyme o' The Raggedy Man's 'at's bestIs Tickle me, Love, in these Lonesome Ribs,--'Cause that-un's the strangest of all o' the rest,An' the worst..
© James Whitcomb Riley
The Days Gone By
O the days gone by! O the days gone by!The apples in the orchard, and the pathway through the rye;The chirrup of the robin, and the whistle of the..
© James Whitcomb Riley
The Happy Little Cripple
I'm thist a little cripple boy, an' never goin' to growAn' get a great big man at all!--'cause Aunty told me so.When I was thist a baby onc't, I..
© James Whitcomb Riley
The Old Home By The Mill
This is 'The old Home by the Mill'--far we still call it so,Although the old mill, roof and sill, is all gone long ago.The old home, though, and old..
© James Whitcomb Riley
The Runaway Boy
Wunst I sassed my Pa, an' heWon't stand that, an' punished me,--Nen when he was gone that day,I slipped out an' runned away.I tooked all my..
© James Whitcomb Riley
The Circus-Day Parade
Oh, the Circus-Day parade! How the bugles played and played!And how the glossy horses tossed their flossy manes, and neighed,As the rattle and the..
© James Whitcomb Riley
The Blossoms On The Trees
Blossoms crimson, white, or blue,Purple, pink, and every hue,From sunny skies, to tintings drownedIn dusky drops of dew,I praise you all, wherever..
© James Whitcomb Riley