James Whitcomb Riley

“ DEAR HANDS. The touches of her hands are like the fall Of velvet snowflakes; like the touch of down The peach just brushes 'gainst the garden wall; The flossy fondlings of the thistle-wisp Caught in the crinkle of a leaf of brown The blighting frost hath turned from green to crisp. Soft as the falling of the dusk at night, The touches of her hands, and the delight— The touches of her hands! The touches of her hands are like the dew That falls so softly down no one e'er knew The touch thereof save lovers like to one Astray in lights where ranged Endymion. ”

“ Perhaps I am— Then, this little five-year-old!— Call it anything you will, So it lifts your face until I may kiss away that tear Ere it drowns me, Kate, my dear.
IN THE DARK. O in the depths of midnight What fancies haunt the brain! When even the sigh of the sleeper Sounds like a sob of pain. A sense of awe and of wonder I may never well define,— For the thoughts that come in the shadows Never come in the shine. The old clock down in the parlor Like a sleepless mourner grieves, And the seconds drip in the silence As the rain drips from the eaves. ”

“ Though I hear, beneath my study, like a fluttering of wings, The voices of my children, and the mother as she sings, I feel no twinge of conscience to deny me any theme When care has cast her anchor in the harbor of a dream In fact, to speak in earnest, I believe it adds a charm To spice the good a trifle with a little dust of harm— For I find an extra flavor in Memory's mellow wine That makes me drink the deeper to that old sweetheart of mine. ”

“ In Bohemia, Kate, my dear— Lodgers in a musty flat On the top floor—living here Neighborless, and used to that,— Like a nest beneath the eaves, So our little home receives Only guests of chirping cheer— We'll be happy, Kate, my dear! Under your north-light there, you At your easel, with a stain On your nose of Prussian blue, Paint your bits of shine and rain; With my feet thrown up at will O'er my littered window-sill, I write rhymes that ring as clear As your laughter, Kate, my dear. ”

“ Bleak winters, when the naked spirit hears The break of hearts, through stinging sleet of tears, I deem that God is not disquieted; Against all stresses am I clothed and fed. Nay, even with fixed eyes and broken breath, My feet dip down into the tides of death, Nor any friend be left, nor prayer be said, I deem that God is not disquieted. ”

“ 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 giner'ly, to all intents— Although they're ap' to grumble some— Puts most their trust in Providence, And takes things as they come;— That is, the commonality Of men that's lived as long as me, Has watched the world enough to learn They're not the boss of the concern. With some, of course, it's different— I've seed young men that knowed it all, And didn't like the way things went On this terrestial ball! But, all the same, the rain some way Rained jest as hard on picnic-day ”

“ III. The glow-worm's glimmer, and the bright, Sad pulsings of the fire-fly's light, Are banquet lights to thee. O less than bird, and worse than beast, Thou Devil's self, or brat, at least, Grate not thy teeth at me!
THE WAY IT WUZ. Las' July—an', I persume 'Bout as hot As the ole Gran'-Jury room Where they sot!— Fight 'twixt Mike an' Dock McGriff— 'Pears to me jes' like as if I'd a dremp' the whole blame thing— Allus ha'nts me roun' the gizzard When they're nightmares on the wing, An' a feller's blood's jes' friz! ”

“ AN OLD SWEETHEART. As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone, And muses on the faces of the friends that he has known, So I turn the leaves of fancy till, in shadowy design, I find the smiling features of an old sweetheart of mine. The lamplight seems to glimmer with a flicker of surprise, As I turn it low to rest me of the dazzle in my eyes, And light my pipe in silence, save a sigh that seems to yoke Its fate with my tobacco and to vanish with the smoke. 'Tis a fragrant retrospection—for the loving thoughts that start Into being are like perfumes from the blossom of the heart ”

“ All listlessly we float Out seaward in the boat That beareth Love. Our sails of purest snow Bend to the blue below And to the blue above. Where shall we land? We drift upon a tide Shoreless on every side, Save where the eye Of Fancy sweeps far lands Shelved slopingly with sands Of gold and porphyry. Where shall we land? ”

“ And he drapped back, where he riz, 'Crost Mike's body, black and blue, Like a great big letter X!— An' I wuz a-standin' as clost to 'em As me an' you is!
THE DRUM. O the drum! There is some Intonation in thy grum Monotony of utterance that strikes the spirit dumb, As we hear Through the clear And unclouded atmosphere, Thy palpitating syllables roll in upon the car! There's a part Of the art Of thy music-throbbing heart That thrills a something in us that awakens with a start, And in rhyme With the chime And exactitude of time, Goes marching on to glory to thy melody sublime. ”

“ A face of lily-beauty, with a form of airy grace, Floats out of my tobacco as the genii from the vase; And I thrill beneath the glances of a pair of azure eyes As glowing as the summer and as tender as the skies. I can see the pink sunbonnet and the little checkered dress She wore when first I kissed her and she answered the caress With the written declaration that, "as surely as the vine Grew 'round the stump," she loved me—that old sweetheart of mine. ”

“ When we should live together in a cozy little cot Hid in a nest of roses, with a fairy garden-spot, Where the vines were ever fruited, and the weather ever fine, And the birds were ever singing for that old sweetheart of mine: When I should be her lover forever and a day, And she my faithful sweetheart till the golden hair was gray ”

“ Could you reach out of the alien lands Where you are lingering, and give me, to-night, Only a touch—were it ever so light— My heart were soothed, and my weary brain Would lull itself into rest again; For there is no solace the world commands Like the caress of your beautiful hands. ”

“ It may be I was prejudust In favor of it from the fust— 'Cause I kin ricollect jest how We met, and hear her mother now A-callin' of her down the road— And, aggervatin' little toad!— I see her now, jes' sort o' half- Way disapp'inted, turn and laugh And mock her—"Marthy Ellen!" Our people never had no fuss, And yit they never tuck to us; We neighbered back and foreds some; Until they see she liked to come To our house—and me and her Were jest together ever'whur And all the time—and when they'd see That I liked her and she liked me, They'd holler "Marthy Ellen!" ”

“ What we've met of stormy pain, And of sorrow's driving rain, We can better meet again, If it blow! We have erred in that dark hour We have known, When our tears fell with the shower, All alone!— Were not shine and shadow blent As the gracious Master meant?— Let us temper our content With His own. ”

“ There are deep Hushes creep O'er the pulses as they leap, As thy tumult, fainter growing, on the silence falls asleep, While the prayer Rising there Wills the sea and earth and air As a heritage to Freedom's sons and daughters everywhere. Then, with sound As profound As the thunderings resound, Come thy wild reverberations in a throe that shakes the ground, And a cry Flung on high, Like the flag it flutters by, Wings rapturously upward till it nestles in the sky. ”

“ And his eyes Wear the guise Of a purpose pure and wise, As the love of them is lifted to a something in the skies That is bright Red and white, With a blur of starry light, As it laughs in silken ripples to the breezes day and night. ”

“ Speak to us!—tell us, O Dreadful Power!— Are we to have not a lone friend left?— Since, frozen, sodden, or green the sod,— In every second of every hour, Some one, Death, you have left thus bereft, Half inaudibly shrieks to God. ”

“ THREE DEAD FRIENDS. Always suddenly they are gone— The friends we trusted and held secure— Suddenly we are gazing on, Not a smiling face, but the marble-pure Dead mask of a face that nevermore To a smile of ours will make reply— The lips close-locked as the eyelids are— Gone—swift as the flash of the molten ore A meteor pours through a midnight sky, Leaving it blind of a single star. ”

“ The fairy isles we see, Loom up so mistily— So vaguely fair, We do not care to break Fresh bubbles in our wake To bend our course for there. Where shall we land? The warm winds of the deep Have lulled our sails to sleep, And so we glide Careless of wave or wind, Or change of any kind, Or turn of any tide. ”

“ Wait for the morning, O thou smitten child, Scorned, scourged and persecuted and reviled— Athirst and famishing, none pitying thee, Crowned with the twisted thorns of agony— No faintest gleam of sunlight through the dense Infinity of gloom to lead thee thence— Wait for the morning:—It will come, indeed, As surely as the night hath given need. ”

“ Then he said:
"I want to propose that theme—'The Duck-hunters of the Kankakee', for one of Tommy's improvizations. I move we have a song now from Tommy on the 'Duck-hunters of the Kankakee.'"
"Hurra! Hurra! A song from Tommy," cried the crowd. "Make us up a song, and put us all into it! A song from Tommy! A song! A song!"
There was a queer light in the eye of the Irishman. ”

“ Our friend Tommy, though the truest Irishman in the world, is a man quite the opposite everyway of the character he has appeared to you. All that rich brogue of his is assumed. Though he's poor, as I told you, when he came here, his native quickness, and his marvelous resources, tact, judgment, business qualities—all have helped him to the equivalent of a liberal education. ”

“ What is this old, unescapable ire You wreak on us?—from the birth of light Till the world be charred to a core of fire! We do no evil thing to you— We seek to evade you—that is all— That is your will—you will not be known Of men. ”

“ What, then, would you have us do?— Cringe, and wait till your vengeance fall, And your graves be fed, and the trumpet blown? You desire no friends; but we—O we Need them so, as we falter here, Fumbling through each new vacancy, As each is stricken that we hold dear. ”

“ When the green gits back in the trees, and bees Is a-buzzin' aroun' agin, In that kind of a lazy go-as-you-please Old gait they bum roun' in; When the groun's all bald where the hay-rick stood, And the crick 's riz, and the breeze Coaxes the bloom in the old dogwood, And the green gits back in the trees,— I like, as I say, in sich scenes as these, The time when the green gits back in the trees! When the whole tail-feathers o' wintertime Is all pulled out and gone! ”

“ When my dreams come true—shall the simple gown I wear Be changed to softest satin, and my maiden-braided hair Be raveled into flossy mists of rarest, fairest gold, To be minted into kisses, more than any heart can hold?— Or "the summer of my tresses" shall my lover liken to "The fervor of his passion"—when my dreams come true? ”

“ Now, when you meet Tommy, you mustn't take all he says for dead earnest, and you mustn't believe, because he talks loud, and in italics every other word, that he wants to do all the talking and won't be interfered with. That's the way he's apt to strike folks at first—but it's their mistake, not his. Talk back to him—controvert him whenever he's aggressive in the utterance of his opinions, and if you're only honest in the announcement of your own ideas and beliefs, he'll like you all the better for standing by them. ”

“ An hour ago, This operator—what's his name— The one 'at works at night, you know?— Went out to flag that Ten Express, And sees a man in front of hit Th'ow up his hands an' stagger—yes,— Tom Johnson's quit."
LULLABY. The maple strews the embers of its leaves O'er the laggard swallows nestled 'neath the eaves; And the moody cricket falters in his cry—Baby-bye!— And the lid of night is falling o'er the sky—Baby-bye!— The lid of night is falling o'er the sky! The rose is lying pallid, and the cup Of the frosted calla-lily folded up ”

“ The yearning eyes, at last, will strain their sight No more unanswered by the morning light; No longer will they vainly strive, through tears, To pierce the darkness of thy doubts and fears, But, bathed in balmy dews and rays of dawn, Will smile with rapture o'er the darkness drawn. ”

“ But when evening comes, and the outlying foundries, sewing-machine, wagon, plow, and other "works," together with the paper-mills and all the nameless industries—when the operations of all these are suspended for the day, and the workmen and workwomen loosed from labor—then, as this vast army suddenly invades and overflows bridge, roadway, street and lane, the startled stranger will fully comprehend the why and wherefore of the city's high prosperity. ”

“ But at last they got to kind o' jiggin' along agin. Plenty to do ther' was; and old Ezry was mighty tickled, too; 'peared to recruit right up like. Ezry was allus best tickled when things was a-stirrin', and then he was a-gittin' ready far buildin', you know, wanted a house of his own, he said—and of course it wasn't adzackly like home, all cluttered up as they was there at Bills's. They got along mighty well, though, together; and the women-folks and childern got along the best in the world. Ezry's woman used to say she never laid eyes on jist sich another woman as Annie was. ”

“ Doc had to ampitate, but 'greed to save Dave's arms, and swore He could a-saved his legs ef he'd ben there the day before. Like when his wife's own mother died 'fore Sifers could be found, And all the neighbors far and wide a' all jes' chasin' round; Tel finally—I had to laugh—it's jes' like Doc, you know,— Was learnin' far to telegraph, down at the old deepo. But all they're faultin' Sifers far, there's none of 'em kin say He's biggoty, er keerless, er not posted anyway; He ain't built on the common plan of doctors now-a-days, He's jes' a great, big, brainy man—that's where the trouble lays! ”

“ Sometimes, far out, the surface breaks, As some proud bass an instant shakes His glittering armor in the sun, And romping ripples, one by one, Come dallying across the space Where undulates my smiling face. ”