James Whitcomb Riley
Little Orphant Annie
INSCRIBED WITH ALL FAITH AND AFFECTION 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
Our Hired Girl
Our hired girl, she’s ‘Lizabuth Ann; An’ she can cook best things to eat! She ist puts dough in our pie-pan, An’ pours in somepin’ ‘at’s good an’ sweet; An’ nen she salts it
The Raggedy Man
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
Ike Walton's Prayer
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
At Broad Ripple
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
The Merman
I Who would be A merman gay, Singing alone, Sitting alone, With a mermaid’s knee, For instance hey For a throne? II I would be a merman gay; I would sit and sing the
Orlie Wilde
A goddess, with a siren’s grace, A sun-haired girl on a craggy place Above a bay where fish-boats lay Drifting about like birds of prey. Wrought was she of a painter’s dream, Wise only
The Ripest Peach
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!
The Song of Yesterday
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
We to Sigh Instead of Sing
“Rain and Rain! and rain and rain!” Yesterday we muttered Grimly as the grim refrain That the thunders uttered: All the heavens under cloud All the sunshine sleeping; All the grasses limply bowed With
A Passing Hail
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
Almost Beyond Endurance
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
The Bumblebee
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
The Willow
Who shall sing a simple ditty about the Willow, Dainty-fine and delicate as any bending spray That dandles high the dainty bird that flutters there to trill a Tremulously tender song of greeting to
A Barefoot Boy
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