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").

Doc Sifers

Of all the doctors I could cite you to in this-'ere townDoc Sifers is my favorite, jes' take him up and down!Count in the Bethel Neighberhood, and..

© James Whitcomb Riley

Dot Leedle Boy

Ot's a leedle Gristmas 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..

© James Whitcomb Riley

Maymie's Story Of Red Riding Hood

W'y, one time wuz a little-weenty dirl,An' she wuz named Red Riding Hood, 'cause her--Her _Ma_ she maked a little red cloak fer her'At turnt up over..

© James Whitcomb Riley

Laughter Holding Both His Sides

Ay, thou varlet! Laugh away!All the world's a holiday!Laugh away, and roar and shoutTill thy hoarse tongue lolleth out!Bloat thy cheeks, and bulge..

© James Whitcomb Riley

Kneeling With Herrick

Dear Lord, to Thee my knee is bent.--Give me content--Full-pleasured with what comes to me,What e'er it be:An humble roof--a frugal board,And simple..

© James Whitcomb Riley

In The Evening

IIn the evening of our days,When the first far stars aboveGlimmer dimmer, through the haze,Than the dewy eyes of love,Shall we mournfully revertTo..

© James Whitcomb Riley

Climatic Sorcery

When frost's all on our winder, an' the snow'sAll out-o'-doors, our 'Old-Kriss'-milkman goesA-drivin' round, ist purt'-nigh froze to death,With his..

© James Whitcomb Riley

Heat-Lightning

There was a curious quiet for a spaceDirectly following: and in the faceOf one rapt listener pulsed the flush and glowOf the heat-lightning that pent..

© James Whitcomb Riley

Only A Dream

Only a dream!Her head is bentOver the keys of the instrument,While her trembling fingers go astrayIn the foolish tune she tries to play.He smiles in..

© James Whitcomb Riley

Noey Bixler

Another hero of those youthful yearsReturns, as Noey Bixler's name appears.And Noey--if in any special way--Was notably good-natured.--Work or playHe..

© James Whitcomb Riley

North And South

Of the North I wove a dream,All bespangled with the gleamOf the glancing wings of swallowsDipping ripples in a stream,That, like a tide of wine,Wound..

© James Whitcomb Riley

John Brown

Writ in between the lines of his life-deedWe trace the sacred service of a heartAnswering the Divine command, in every partBearing on human weal: His..

© James Whitcomb Riley

Lines For An Album

I would not trace the hackneyed phraseOf shallow words and empty praise,And prate of 'peace' till one might thinkMy foolish pen was drunk with..

© James Whitcomb Riley

An Old Friend

Hey, Old Midsummer! are you here again,With all your harvest-store of olden joys,--Vast overhanging meadow-lands of rain,And drowsy dawns, and noons..

© James Whitcomb Riley

A Prospective Visit

While _any_ day was notable and dearThat gave the children Noey, history hereRecords his advent emphasized indeedWith sharp italics, as he came to..

© James Whitcomb Riley

Old Fashioned Roses

They ain't no style about 'em,And they're sorto' pale and faded,Yit the doorway here, without 'em,Would be lonesomer, and shadedWith a good 'eal..

© James Whitcomb Riley

Morton

The warm pulse of the nation has grown chill;The muffled heart of Freedom, like a knell,Throbs solemnly for one whose earthly willWrought every..

© James Whitcomb Riley

Dead Leaves

DAWNAs though a gipsy maiden with dim look,Sat crooning by the roadside of the year,So, Autumn, in thy strangeness, thou art hereTo read dark..

© James Whitcomb Riley

Dead In Sight Of Fame

DIED--Early morning of September 5, 1876, andin the gleaming dawn of 'name and fame,'Hamilton J. Dunbar.Dead! Dead! Dead!We thought him ours..

© James Whitcomb Riley

Babyhood

Heigh-ho! Babyhood! Tell me where you linger:Let's toddle home again, for we have gone astray;Take this eager hand of mine and lead me by the..

© James Whitcomb Riley

Gratefully And Affectionately Inscribed To Joel Chandler Harris

_You who to the rounded prime__Of a life of toil and stress_,_Still have kept the morning-time__Of glad youth in heart and spirit_,_So your laugh, as..

© James Whitcomb Riley

From The Headboard Of A Grave In Paraguay

A troth, and a grief, and a blessing,Disguised them and came this way--,And one was a promise, and one was a doubt,And one was a rainy day.And they..

© James Whitcomb Riley

Little Jack Janitor

And there, in that ripe Summer-night, once moreA wintry coolness through the open doorAnd window seemed to touch each glowing faceRefreshingly; and..

© James Whitcomb Riley

Where Shall We Land

'_Where shall we land you, sweet_?'--Swinburne.All listlessly we floatOut seaward in the boatThat beareth Love.Our sails of purest snowBend to the..

© James Whitcomb Riley

When June Is Here

When June is here--what art have we to singThe whiteness of the lilies midst the greenOf noon-tranced lawns? Or flash of roses seenLike redbirds'..

© James Whitcomb Riley