Poems List

Craqueodoom

Craqueodoom


The Crankadox leaned o'er the edge of the moon
And wistfully gazed on the sea
Where the Gryxabodill madly whistled a tune
To the air of 'Ti-fol-de-ding-dee.'
The quavering shriek of the Fly-up-the-creek
Was fitfully wafted afar
To the Queen of the Wunks as she powdered her cheek
With the pulverized rays of a star.


The Gool closed his ear on the voice of the Grig,
And his heart it grew heavy as lead
As he marked the Baldekin adjusting his wing
On the opposite side of his head,
And the air it grew chill as the Gryxabodill
Raised his dank, dripping fins to the skies,
And plead with the Plunk for the use of her bill
To pick the tears out of his eyes.


The ghost of the Zhack flitted by in a trance,
And the Squidjum hid under a tub
As he heard the loud hooves of the Hooken advance
With a rub-a-dub--dub-a-dub--dub!
And the Crankadox cried, as he lay down and died,
'My fate there is none to bewail,'
While the Queen of the Wunks drifted over the tide
With a long piece of crape to her tail.
300

Company Manners

Company Manners

When Bess gave her Dollies a Tea, said she,-'
It's unpolite, when they's Company,
To say you've drinked _two_ cups, you see,--
But say you've drinked _a couple_ of tea.'
296

By Her White Bed

By Her White Bed

By her white bed I muse a little space:
She fell asleep--not very long ago,--
And yet the grass was here and not the snow--
The leaf, the bud, the blossom, and--her face!-Midsummer's
heaven above us, and the grace
Of Lovers own day, from dawn to afterglow;
The fireflies' glimmering, and the sweet and low
Plaint of the whip-poor-wills, and every place
In thicker twilight for the roses' scent.
Then _night_.--She slept--in such tranquility,
I walk atiptoe still, nor _dare_ to weep,
Feeling, in all this hush, she rests content--
That though God stood to wake her for me, she
Would mutely plead: 'Nay, Lord! Let _him_ so sleep.'
293

Blooms Of May

Blooms Of May

But yesterday!...
O blooms of May,
And summer roses--Where-away?
O stars above,
And lips of love
And all the honeyed sweets thereof!


O lad and lass
And orchard-pass,
And briered lane, and daisied grass!
O gleam and gloom,
And woodland bloom,
And breezy breaths of all perfume!--


No more for me
Or mine shall be
Thy raptures--save in memory,--
No more--no more--
Till through the Door
Of Glory gleam the days of yore.
284

Billy's Alphabetical Animal Show

Billy's Alphabetical Animal Show

A was an elegant Ape
Who tied up his ears with red tape,
And wore a long veil
Half revealing his tail
Which was trimmed with jet bugles and crape.


B was a boastful old Bear
Who used to say,--'Hoomh! I declare
I can eat--if you'll get me
The children, and let me--
Ten babies, teeth, toenails and hair!'


C was a Codfish who sighed
When snatched from the home of his pride,
But could he, embrined,
Guess this fragrance behind,
How glad he would be that he died!


D was a dandified Dog
Who said,--'Though it's raining like fog
I wear no umbrellah,
Me boy, for a fellah
Might just as well travel incog!'


E was an elderly Eel
Who would say,--'Well, I really feel--
As my grandchildren wriggle
And shout 'I should giggle'--
A trifle run down at the heel!'


F was a Fowl who conceded
_Some_ hens might hatch more eggs than _she_ did,--
But she'd children as plenty
As eighteen or twenty,
And that was quite all that she needed.


G was a gluttonous Goat
Who, dining one day, _table-d'hote,_
Ordered soup-bone, _au fait_,
And fish, _papier-mache_,
And a _filet_ of Spring overcoat.


H was a high-cultured Hound
Who could clear forty feet at a bound,
And a coon once averred
That his howl could be heard
For five miles and three-quarters around.


I was an Ibex ambitious
To dive over chasms auspicious;
He would leap down a peak
And not light for a week,



And swear that the jump was delicious.


J was a Jackass who said
He had such a bad cold in his head,
If it wasn't for leaving
The rest of us grieving,
He'd really rather be dead.


K was a profligate Kite
Who would haunt the saloons every night;
And often he ust
To reel back to his roost
Too full to set up on it right.


L was a wary old Lynx
Who would say,--'Do you know wot I thinks?--
I thinks ef you happen
To ketch me a-nappin'
I'm ready to set up the drinks!'


M was a merry old Mole,
Who would snooze all the day in his hole,
Then--all night, a-rootin'
Around and galootin'-He'd
sing 'Johnny, Fill up the Bowl!'


N was a caustical Nautilus
Who sneered, 'I suppose, when they've _caught_ all us,
Like oysters they'll serve us,
And can us, preserve us,
And barrel, and pickle, and bottle us!'


O was an autocrat Owl--
Such a wise--such a wonderful fowl!
Why, for all the night through
He would hoot and hoo-hoo,
And hoot and hoo-hooter and howl!


P was a Pelican pet,
Who gobbled up all he could get;
He could eat on until
He was full to the bill,
And there he had lodgings to let!


Q was a querulous Quail,
Who said: 'It will little avail
The efforts of those
Of my foes who propose
To attempt to put salt on my tail!'


R was a ring-tailed Raccoon,
With eyes of the tinge of the moon,



And his nose a blue-black,
And the fur on his back
A sad sort of sallow maroon.


S is a Sculpin--you'll wish
Very much to have one on your dish,
Since all his bones grow
On the outside, and so
He's a very desirable fish.


T was a Turtle, of wealth,
Who went round with particular stealth,-'
Why,' said he, 'I'm afraid
Of being waylaid
When I even walk out for my health!'


U was a Unicorn curious,
With one horn, of a growth so _luxurious_,
He could level and stab it--
If you didn't grab it--
Clean through you, he was so blamed furious!


V was a vagabond Vulture
Who said: 'I don't want to insult yer,
But when you intrude
Where in lone solitude
I'm a-preyin', you're no man o' culture!'


W was a wild _Wood_chuck,
And you can just bet that he _could_ 'chuck'
He'd eat raw potatoes,
Green corn, and tomatoes,
And tree roots, and call it all '_good_ chuck!'


X was a kind of X-cuse
Of a some-sort-o'-thing that got loose
Before we could name it,
And cage it, and tame it,
And bring it in general use.


Y is the Yellowbird,--bright
As a petrified lump of star-light,
Or a handful of lightning-
Bugs, squeezed in the tight'ning
Pink fist of a boy, at night.


Z is the Zebra, of course!--
A kind of a clown-of-a-horse,--
Each other despising,
Yet neither devising
A way to obtain a divorce!



& here is the famous--what-is-it?
Walk up, Master Billy, and quiz it:
You've seen the _rest_ of 'em-Ain't
this the _best_ of 'em,
Right at the end of your visit?
224

Bedouin

Bedouin


O love is like an untamed steed!--
So hot of heart and wild of speed,
And with fierce freedom so in love,
The desert is not vast enough,
With all its leagues of glimmering sands,
To pasture it! Ah, that my hands
Were more than human in their strength,
That my deft lariat at length
Might safely noose this splendid thing
That so defies all conquering!
Ho! but to see it whirl and reel--
The sands spurt forward--and to feel
The quivering tension of the thong
That throned me high, with shriek and song!
To grapple tufts of tossing mane--
To spurn it to its feet again,
And then, sans saddle, rein or bit,
To lash the mad life out of it!
301

Bewildering Emotions

Bewildering Emotions

The merriment that followed was subdued--
As though the story-teller's attitude
Were dual, in a sense, appealing quite
As much to sorrow as to mere delight,
According, haply, to the listener's bent
Either of sad or merry temperament.-'
And of your two appeals I much prefer
The pathos,' said 'The Noted Traveler,'-'
For should I live to twice my present years,
I know I could not quite forget the tears
That child-eyes bleed, the little palms nailed wide,
And quivering soul and body crucified....
But, bless 'em! there are no such children here
To-night, thank God!--Come here to me, my dear!'
He said to little Alex, in a tone
So winning that the sound of it alone
Had drawn a child more lothful to his knee:-'
And, now-sir, _I'll_ agree if _you'll_ agree,-_
You_ tell us all a story, and then _I_
Will tell one.'


'_But I can't._'


'Well, can't you _try?_'
'Yes, Mister: he _kin_ tell _one_. Alex, tell
The one, you know, 'at you made up so well,
About the _Bear_. He allus tells that one,'
Said Bud,--'He gits it mixed some 'bout the _gun_
An' _ax_ the Little Boy had, an' _apples_, too.'--
Then Uncle Mart said--'There, now! that'll do!--
Let _Alex_ tell his story his own way!'
And Alex, prompted thus, without delay
Began.
283

Back From A Two-years' Sentence

Back From A Two-years' Sentence

Back from a two-years' sentence!
And though it had been ten,
You think, I were scarred no deeper
In the eyes of my fellow-men.
'My fellow-men--?' Sounds like a satire,
You think-- and I so allow,
Here in my home since childhood,
Yet more than a stranger now!


Pardon--! Not wholly a stranger--,
For I have a wife and child:
That woman has wept for two long years,
And yet last night she smiled--!
Smiled, as I leapt from the platform
Of the midnight train, and then--
All that I knew was that smile of hers,
And our babe in my arms again!


Back from a two-years' sentence--
But I've thought the whole thing through--,
A hint of it came when the bars swung back
And I looked straight up in the blue
Of the blessed skies with my hat off!
O-ho! I've a wife and child:
That woman has wept for two long years,
And yet last night she smiled!
258

Away

Away


I cannot say, and I will not say
That he is dead--. He is just away!


With a cheery smile, and a wave of the hand
He has wandered into an unknown land,


And left us dreaming how very fair
It needs must be, since he lingers there.


And you-- O you, who the wildest yearn
For the old-time step and the glad return--,


Think of him faring on, as dear
In the love of There as the love of Here;


And loyal still, as he gave the blows
Of his warrior-strength to his country's foes--.


Mild and gentle, as he was brave--,
When the sweetest love of his life he gave


To simple things--: Where the violets grew
Blue as the eyes they were likened to,


The touches of his hands have strayed
As reverently as his lips have prayed:


When the little brown thrush that harshly chirred
Was dear to him as the mocking-bird;


And he pitied as much as a man in pain
A writhing honey-bee wet with rain--.


Think of him still as the same, I say:
He is not dead-- he is just away!
313

At Sea

At Sea

O we go down to sea in ships--
But Hope remains behind,
And Love, with laughter on his lips,
And Peace, of passive mind;
While out across the deeps of night,
With lifted sails of prayer,
We voyage off in quest of light,
Nor find it anywhere.


O Thou who wroughtest earth and sea,
Yet keepest from our eyes
The shores of an eternity
In calms of Paradise,
Blow back upon our foolish quest
With all the driving rain
Of blinding tears and wild unrest,
And waft us home again.
243

Comments (0)

Log in to post a comment.

NoComments

Identification and basic context

James Whitcomb Riley was an American poet, author, and lecturer. He is celebrated as "The Hoosier Poet" for his distinctive dialect verse that vividly depicted rural life in Indiana and the American Midwest. His writings often evoked a sense of nostalgia for childhood, simplicity, and the everyday lives of common people. Riley's national fame and accessibility made him one of the most popular literary figures of his era.

Childhood and education

Riley was born and raised in Greenfield, Indiana. His father was a lawyer who encouraged his son's literary inclinations. Riley's formal education was limited; he attended public school but left before graduating. He was largely self-taught, developing a love for literature, poetry, and popular entertainment. His childhood experiences in rural Indiana, filled with local folklore, storytelling, and the rhythms of small-town life, profoundly shaped his later literary output.

Literary trajectory

Riley began his career in journalism, working for various newspapers in Indiana. He also experimented with writing songs and poems, often publishing them under pseudonyms. His breakthrough came with the serialization of "The Old Swimmin' Hole" in 1883, a poem written in Hoosier dialect that resonated with readers. This success led to the publication of his first collection, "The Old Swimmin' Hole and Other Poems" (1883), which established his reputation. He went on to publish numerous collections of poetry and prose, becoming a nationally recognized literary figure.

Works, style, and literary characteristics

Riley's most famous works include "The Raggedy Man," "Little Orphant Annie," "When the Frost Is on the Punkin," and "A Country Boy." His dominant themes revolve around rural life, childhood innocence, nostalgia for the past, friendship, and the simple virtues of ordinary people. His style is characterized by its use of Hoosier dialect, colloquial language, and a warm, humorous, and often sentimental tone. He employed simple rhyme schemes and rhythmic patterns, making his poetry accessible and memorable. His poetic voice is typically that of a genial observer, sharing fond memories and gentle observations about his subjects.

Cultural and historical context

Riley's work emerged during a period of significant change in America, as the nation transitioned from an agrarian society to an industrial one. His poems tapped into a widespread sentimentality and nostalgia for the perceived simpler times of rural life, which were rapidly disappearing. He was part of a broader literary trend that celebrated regionalism and local color in American literature. His popularity reflected a national desire to connect with its agrarian roots and the everyday experiences of its citizens.

Personal life

Riley never married and lived a relatively private life, though he was a popular public figure. He suffered from ill health for much of his adult life, including a stroke that affected his mobility, but he continued to write and lecture. His deep affection for children and his memories of his own childhood were central to his creative inspiration. He maintained close ties to his family and friends in Indiana throughout his career.

Recognition and reception

James Whitcomb Riley achieved immense popularity during his lifetime. He was celebrated across the United States, hailed as a national treasure. His readings were often standing-room-only events, and his books sold exceptionally well. He received numerous honors and accolades, solidifying his status as one of America's most beloved poets. His accessible style and relatable themes ensured a broad appeal that transcended literary circles.

Influences and legacy

Riley was influenced by earlier American poets who celebrated rural life and folklore, as well as by popular song forms. His legacy lies in his enduring portrayal of Hoosier life and his contribution to American regionalist literature. He helped popularize the use of vernacular dialect in poetry, making it more relatable to a wider audience. While his work is sometimes seen as overly sentimental by modern critics, its charm and historical value continue to be recognized, and he remains a significant figure in the history of American poetry.

Interpretation and critical analysis

Critics often analyze Riley's work for its nostalgic portrayal of rural America and its use of dialect. Some view his sentimentality as a way to explore universal themes of childhood and memory, while others find it to be a retreat from the complexities of modern life. His celebration of "simple folk" can be interpreted as both an affirmation of democratic ideals and a romanticized, perhaps overly idealized, depiction of rural existence.

Curiosities and lesser-known aspects

Riley was known for his affable personality and his engaging public readings. He was an avid collector of books and manuscripts. Despite his fame, he often expressed a desire for more serious literary recognition, though his talent for popular verse was undeniable. He was also known for his interest in spiritualism.

Death and memory

James Whitcomb Riley died in Indianapolis in 1916. His death was mourned by a nation that had embraced him as a beloved literary son. His home in Greenfield is preserved as a museum, and he is remembered as "The Hoosier Poet" whose words captured the heart and spirit of Indiana.