All Poems
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Unless
© 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.--
At Broad Ripple
© 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
To a Boy Whistling
© James Whitcomb Riley
The smiling face of a happy boy
With its enchanted key
Is now unlocking in memory
My store of heartiest joy.
A Poet's Wooing
© James Whitcomb Riley
I woo'd a woman once,
But she was sharper than an eastern wind.
Tennyson
We to Sigh Instead of Sing
© James Whitcomb Riley
"Rain and Rain! and rain and rain!"
Yesterday we muttered
Grimly as the grim refrain
That the thunders uttered:
The Song of Yesterday
© James Whitcomb Riley
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.
The Old Times Were the Best
© James Whitcomb Riley
All about is bright and pleasant
With the sound of song and jest,
Yet a feeling's ever present
That the Old Times were the best.
A Song of the Road
© James Whitcomb Riley
O I will walk with you, my lad, whichever way you fare,
You'll have me, too, the side o' you, with heart as light as air;
No care for where the road you take's a-leadin' anywhere,--
It can but be a joyful ja'nt whilst you journey there.
The road you take's the path o' love, an' that's the bridth o' two--
An' I will walk with you, my lad -- O I will walk with you.
A Parting Guest
© James Whitcomb Riley
What delightful hosts are they --
Life and Love!
Lingeringly I turn away,
This late hour, yet glad enough
Ylladmar
© 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;
Knee-Deep in June
© 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!
The Ripest Peach
© James Whitcomb Riley
The ripest peach is highest on the tree --
And so her love, beyond the reach of me,
Is dearest in my sight. Sweet breezes, bow
Her heart down to me where I worship now!
Almost Beyond Endurance
© 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
The Old Guitar
© 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.
A Summer Afternoon
© James Whitcomb Riley
A languid atmosphere, a lazy breeze,
With labored respiration, moves the wheat
From distant reaches, till the golden seas
Break in crisp whispers at my feet.
Nine Little Goblins
© 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.
A Life-Lesson
© James Whitcomb Riley
There! little girl; don't cry!
They have broken your doll, I know;
And your tea-set blue,
And your play-house, too,
Little Orphant Annie
© James Whitcomb Riley
To all the little children: -- The happy ones; and sad ones;
The sober and the silent ones; the boisterous and glad ones;
The good ones -- Yes, the good ones, too; and all the lovely bad ones.
Le Directeur
© Thomas Stearns Eliot
MALHEUR à la malheureuse Tamise
Qui coule si preès du Spectateur.
Le directeur
Conservateur
Conversation Galante
© Thomas Stearns Eliot
I OBSERVE: Our sentimental friend the moon!
Or possibly (fantastic, I confess)
It may be Prester Johns balloon
Or an old battered lantern hung aloft
To light poor travellers to their distress.
She then: How you digress!
