James Whitcomb Riley Poems

A collection of select James Whitcomb Riley famous poems that were written by James Whitcomb Riley or written about the poet by other famous poets. PoetrySoup is a comprehensive educational resource of the greatest poems and poets on history.

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The Raggedy Man

by James Whitcomb Riley
 O the Raggedy Man! He works fer Pa;
An' he's the goodest man ever you saw!
He comes to our house every day,
An' waters the horses, an' feeds 'em hay;
An' he opens the shed -- an' we all ist laugh
When he drives out our little old wobble-ly calf;
An' nen -- ef our hired girl says he can --
He milks the cow...Read more of this...

A Passing Hail

by James Whitcomb Riley
 Let us rest ourselves a bit! 
Worry?-- wave your hand to it -- 
Kiss your finger-tips and smile 
It farewell a little while.

Weary of the weary way 
We have come from Yesterday, 
Let us fret not, instead, 
Of the wary way ahead.

Let us pause and catch our breath 
On the hither side of death, 
While we see the tender...Read more of this...

The Bumblebee

by James Whitcomb Riley
 You better not fool with a Bumblebee! --
Ef you don't think they can sting -- you'll see!
They're lazy to look at, an' kind o' go
Buzzin' an' bummin' aroun' so slow,
An' ac' so slouchy an' all fagged out,
Danglin' their legs as they drone about
The hollyhawks 'at they can't climb in
'Ithout ist a-tumble-un out ag'in!
Wunst I watched one climb clean 'way
In...Read more of this...

Ike Waltons Prayer

by James Whitcomb Riley
 I crave, dear Lord, 
No boundless hoard 
Of gold and gear, 
Nor jewels fine, 
Nor lands, nor kine, 
Nor treasure-heaps of anything.- 
Let but a little hut be mine 
Where at the hearthstore I may hear 
The cricket sing, 
And have the shine 
Of one glad woman's eyes to make, 
For my poor sake, 
Our simple home a place...Read more of this...

Liberty

by James Whitcomb Riley
 New Castle, July 4, 1878

or a hundred years the pulse of time
Has throbbed for Liberty;
For a hundred years the grand old clime
Columbia has been free;
For a hundred years our country's love,
The Stars and Stripes, has waved above.

Away far out on the gulf of years--
Misty and faint and white
Through the fogs of wrong--a sail appears,
And the Mayflower heaves in sight,
And...Read more of this...

The Song of Yesterday

by James Whitcomb Riley
 I 
But yesterday 
I looked away 
O'er happy lands, where sunshine lay 
In golden blots, 
Inlaid with spots 
Of shade and wild forget-me-nots. 

My head was fair 
With flaxen hair, 
And fragrant breezes, faint and rare, 
And, warm with drouth 
From out the south, 
Blew all my curls across my mouth. 

And, cool and sweet, 
My naked feet 
Found...Read more of this...

Unless

by James Whitcomb Riley
 Who has not wanted, does not guess 
What plenty is.--Who has not groped 
In depths of doubt and hopelessness, 
Has never truly hoped.-- 
Unless, sometimes, a shaow falls 
Upon his mirth, and veils his sight, 
And from the darkness drifts the light 
Of love at intervals.

And that most dear of everything, 
I hold, is love; and who can sit...Read more of this...

Nine Little Goblins

by James Whitcomb Riley
 THEY all climbed up on a high board-fence---
 Nine little Goblins, with green-glass eyes---
Nine little Goblins that had no sense,
 And couldn't tell coppers from cold mince pies;
 And they all climbed up on the fence, and sat---
 And I asked them what they were staring at.

And the first one said, as he scratched his head
 With a *****...Read more of this...

A Barefoot Boy

by James Whitcomb Riley
 A barefoot boy! I mark him at his play --
 For May is here once more, and so is he, --
 His dusty trousers, rolled half to the knee,
And his bare ankles grimy, too, as they:
Cross-hatchings of the nettle, in array
 Of feverish stripes, hint vividly to me
 Of woody pathways winding endlessly
Along the creek, where even yesterday
He plunged...Read more of this...

When the Frost is on the Punkin

by James Whitcomb Riley
 When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock,
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey-cock,
And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens,
And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;
O, it's then's the times a feller is a-feelin' at his best,
With the risin' sun to greet...Read more of this...

The Rapture of the Year

by James Whitcomb Riley
 While skies glint bright with bluest light 
Through clouds that race o'er fields and town, 
And leaves go dancing left and right, 
And orchard apples tumble down; 
While school-girls sweet, in lane or street, 
Lean 'gainst the wind and feel and hear 
Its glad heart like a lover's beat,-- 
So reigns the rapture of the year.

The ho! and hey!...Read more of this...

The Old Guitar

by James Whitcomb Riley
 Neglected now is the old guitar
And moldering into decay;
Fretted with many a rift and scar
That the dull dust hides away,
While the spider spins a silver star
In its silent lips to-day.

The keys hold only nerveless strings--
The sinews of brave old airs
Are pulseless now; and the scarf that clings
So closely here declares
A sad regret in its ravelings
And the faded hue it...Read more of this...

Wet-weather Talk

by James Whitcomb Riley
 It hain't no use to grumble and complane;
 It's jest as cheap and easy to rejoice. --
When God sorts out the weather and sends rain,
 W'y rain's my choice.


Men ginerly, to all intents --
 Although they're apt to grumble some --
Puts most theyr trust in Providence,
 And takes things as they come --
 That is, the commonality
 Of men...Read more of this...

Who Bides His Time

by James Whitcomb Riley
 Who bides his time, and day by day 
Faces defeat full patiently, 
And lifts a mirthful roundelay, 
However poor his fortunes be,-- 
He will not fail in any qualm 
Of poverty -- the paltry dime 
It will grow golden in his palm, 
Who bides his time.

Who bides his time -- he tastes the sweet 
Of honey in the saltest...Read more of this...

The Willow

by James Whitcomb Riley
 On sweet young earth where the myrtle presses,
Long we lay, when the May was new;
The willow was winding the moon in her tresses,
The bud of the rose was told with dew.

And now on the brittle ground I'm lying,
Screaming to die with the dead year's dead;
The stem of the rose is black and drying,
The willow is tossing the wind from...Read more of this...

James Whitcomb Riley

by Paul Laurence Dunbar
(From a Westerner's Point of View.)
No matter what you call it,
Whether genius, or art,
He sings the simple songs that come
The closest to your heart.
Fur trim an' skillful phrases,
I do not keer a jot;
'Tain't the words alone, but feelin's,
That tech the tender spot.
An' that's jest why I love him,—
Why, he's got sech human feelin',
An' in ev'ry song he gives us,
You kin...Read more of this...

To James Whitcomb Riley

by Henry Van Dyke
 On his "Book of Joyous Children"

Yours is a garden of old-fashioned flowers;
Joyous children delight to play there;
Weary men find rest in its bowers,
Watching the lingering light of day there.

Old-time tunes and young love's laughter
Ripple and run among the roses;
Memory's echoes, murmuring after,
Fill the dusk when the long day closes.

Simple songs with a cadence olden--
These you learned in the Forest...Read more of this...

To a Boy Whistling

by James Whitcomb Riley
 The smiling face of a happy boy
With its enchanted key
Is now unlocking in memory
My store of heartiest joy.

And my lost life again to-day,
In pleasant colors all aglow,
From rainbow tints, to pure white snow,
Is a panorama sliding away.

The whistled air of a simple tune
Eddies and whirls my thoughts around,
As fairy balloons of thistle-down
Sail through the air of June.

O happy boy...Read more of this...

Almost Beyond Endurance

by James Whitcomb Riley
 I ain't a-goin' to cry no more, no more!
I'm got ear-ache, an' Ma can't make
It quit a-tall;
An' Carlo bite my rubber-ball
An' puncture it; an' Sis she take
An' poke' my knife down through the stable-floor
An' loozed it - blame it all!
But I ain't goin' to cry no more, no more!

An' Aunt Mame wrote she's comin',
an she can't -
Folks is come...Read more of this...

The Rival

by James Whitcomb Riley
 I so loved once, when Death came by I hid 
 Away my face, 
And all my sweetheart's tresses she undid 
 To make my hiding-place. 

The dread shade passed me thus unheeding; and 
 I turned me then 
To calm my love -- kiss down her shielding hand 
 And comfort her again. 

And lo! she answered not:...Read more of this...

Ylladmar

by James Whitcomb Riley
 Her hair was, oh, so dense a blur
Of darkness, midnight envied her;
And stars grew dimmer in the skies
To see the glory of her eyes;
And all the summer rain of light
That showered from the moon at night
Fell o'er her features as the gloom
Of twilight o'er a lily-bloom.

The crimson fruitage of her lips
Was ripe and lush with sweeter wine
Than burgundy or...Read more of this...

At Broad Ripple

by James Whitcomb Riley
 Oh luxury! Beyond the heat 
And dust of town, with dangling feet 
Astride the rock below the dam, 
In the cool shadows where the calm 
Rests on the stream again, and all 
Is silent save the waterfall,-- 
I bait my hook and cast my line, 
And feel the best of life is mine.

No high ambition can I claim --...Read more of this...

The Rival

by James Whitcomb Riley
 If the moon smiled, she would resemble you.
You leave the same impression
Of something beautiful, but annihilating.
Both of you are great light borrowers.
Her O-mouth grieves at the world; yours is unaffected,

And your first gift is making stone out of everything.
I wake to a mausoleum; you are here,
Ticking your fingers on the marble table, looking for cigarettes,
Spiteful as a woman, but...Read more of this...

The Merman

by James Whitcomb Riley
 I

Who would be
A merman bold,
Sitting alone
Singing alone
Under the sea,
With a crown of gold,
On a throne?

II

I would be a merman bold,
I would sit and sing the whole of the day;
I would fill the sea-halls with a voice of power;
But at night I would roam abroad and play
With the mermaids in and out of the rocks,
Dressing their hair with the white...Read more of this...

Knee-Deep in June

by James Whitcomb Riley
 Tell you what I like the best -- 
'Long about knee-deep in June, 
'Bout the time strawberries melts 
On the vine, -- some afternoon 
Like to jes' git out and rest, 
And not work at nothin' else! 

Orchard's where I'd ruther be -- 
Needn't fence it in fer me! -- 
Jes' the whole sky overhead, 
And the whole airth...Read more of this...

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