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").
Green Fields And Running Brooks
Ho! green fields and running brooks!Knotted strings and fishing-hooksOf the truant, stealing downWeedy backways of the town.Where the sunshine..
© James Whitcomb Riley
Dead Selves
How many of my selves are dead?The ghosts of many haunt me: Lo,The baby in the tiny bedWith rockers on, is blanketedAnd sleeping in the long ago;And..
© James Whitcomb Riley
Her Hair
The beauty of her hair bewilders me-Pouring adown the brow, its cloven tideSwirling about the ears on either sideAnd storming round the neck..
© James Whitcomb Riley
When The Hearse Comes Back
A thing 'at's 'bout as tryin' as a healthy man kin meetIs some poor feller's funeral a-joggin' 'long the street:The slow hearse and the hosses-- slow..
© James Whitcomb Riley
Indiana
Our Land-- our Home-- the common home indeedOf soil-born children and adopted ones--The stately daughters and the stalwart sonsOf Industry--: All..
© James Whitcomb Riley
If I Knew What Poets Know
If I knew what poets know,Would I write a rhymeOf the buds that never blowIn the summer-time?Would I sing of golden seedsSpringing up in..
© James Whitcomb Riley
Her Face And Brow
Ah, help me! but her face and browAre lovelier than lilies areBeneath the light of moon and starThat smile as they are smiling now-White lilies in a..
© James Whitcomb Riley
A Monument For The Soldiers
A monument for the Soldiers!And what will ye build it of?Can ye build it of marble, or brass, or bronze,Outlasting the Soldiers' love?Can ye glorify..
© James Whitcomb Riley
Unless
Who has not wanted, does not guessWhat plenty is.--Who has not gropedIn depths of doubt and hopelessness,Has never truly hoped.--Unless, sometimes, a..
© James Whitcomb Riley
A Feel In The Chris'Mas-Air
They's a kind o' _feel_ in the air, to me.When the Chris'mas-times sets in.That's about as much of a mysteryAs ever I've run ag'in!--Fer instunce..
© James Whitcomb Riley
Old Aunt Mary's
Wasn't it pleasant, O brother mine,In those old days of the lost sunshineOf youth-- when the Saturday's chores were through,And the 'Sunday's wood'..
© James Whitcomb Riley
Griggsby's Station
Pap's got his patent-right, and rich is all creation;But where's the peace and comfort that we all had before?Le's go a-visitin' back to Griggsby's..
© James Whitcomb Riley
A Letter To A Friend
The past is like a storyI have listened to in dreamsThat vanished in the gloryOf the Morning's early gleams;And--at my shadow glancing--I feel a loss..
© James Whitcomb Riley
When My Dreams Come True
I.When my dreams come true--when my dreams come true--Shall I lean from out my casement, in the starlight and the dew,To listen--smile and listen to..
© James Whitcomb Riley
A Summer Sunrise
AFTER LEE O. HARRISThe master-hand whose pencils traceThis wondrous landscape of the morn,Is but the sun, whose glowing faceReflects the rapture and..
© James Whitcomb Riley
When The Green Gits Back In The Trees
In spring, when the green gits back in the trees,And the sun comes out and stays,And yer boots pulls on with a good tight squeeze,And you think of..
© James Whitcomb Riley
Her Beautiful Hands
Your hands- they are strangely fair!O Fair- for the jewels that sparkle there,-Fair- for the witchery of the spellThat ivory keys alone can tell;But..
© James Whitcomb Riley
A Fruit Piece
The afternoon of summer foldsIts warm arms round the marigolds,And with its gleaming fingers, petsThe watered pinks and violetsThat from the casement..
© James Whitcomb Riley
Little-Girl-Two-Little-Girls
I'm twins, I guess, 'cause my Ma sayI'm two little girls. An' one o' meIs _Good_ little girl; an' th'other 'n' sheIs _Bad little girl as she can..
© James Whitcomb Riley
A Man Of Many Parts
It was a man of many parts,Who in his coffer mindHad stored the Classics and the ArtsAnd Sciences combined;The purest gems of poesyCame flashing from..
© James Whitcomb Riley
A Dost O' Blues
I' got no patience with blues at all!And I ust to kindo talkAginst 'em, and claim, 'tel along last Fall,They was none in the fambly stock;But a..
© James Whitcomb Riley
A Canary At The Farm
Folks has be'n to town, and SahryFetched 'er home a pet canary--,And of all the blame', contrary,Aggervatin' things alive!I love music-- that I love..
© James Whitcomb Riley
A Diverted Tragedy
Gracie wuz allus a _careless_ tot;But Gracie dearly loved her doll,An' played wiv it on the winder-sill'Way up-stairs, when she ought to _not_,An'..
© James Whitcomb Riley
A Home-Made Fairy Tale
Bud, come here to your uncle a spell,And I'll tell you something you mustn't tell--For it's a secret and shore-'nuf true,And maybe I oughtn't to tell..
© James Whitcomb Riley
An Old Sweetheart Of Mine
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..
© James Whitcomb Riley