Riley Farm-Rhymes | Page 5

the idy, now, o' layin'?Out yer money, and a-payin'
Fer a wilder-cage and bird,?When the medder-larks is wingin'?Round you, and the woods is ringin'?With the beautifullest singin'
That a mortal ever heard!
Sahry's sot, tho'.--So I tell her?He's a purty little feller,?With his wings o' creamy-yeller,
And his eyes keen as a cat;?And the twitter o' the critter?Tears to absolutely glitter!?Guess I'll haf to go and git her
A high-priceter cage 'n that!
WHERE THE CHILDREN USED TO PLAY
The old farm-home is Mother's yet and mine,
And filled it is with plenty and to spare,--?But we are lonely here in life's decline,
Though fortune smiles around us everywhere:
We look across the gold?Of the harvests, as of old--?The corn, the fragrant clover, and the hay
But most we turn our gaze,?As with eyes of other days,?To the orchard where the children used to play.
O from our life's full measure?And rich hoard of worldly treasure
We often turn our weary eyes away,?And hand in hand we wander?Down the old path winding yonder
To the orchard where the children used to play
Our sloping pasture-lands are filled with herds;
The barn and granary-bins are bulging o'er:?The grove's a paradise of singing birdsThe
woodland brook leaps laughing by the door
Yet lonely, lonely still,?Let us prosper as we will,?Our old hearts seem so empty everyway--
We can only through a mist?See the faces we have kissed?In the orchard where the children used to play.
O from our life's full measure?And rich hoard of worldly treasure
We often turn our weary eyes away,?And hand in hand we wander?Down the old path winding yonder
To the orchard where the children used to play.
GRIGGSBY'S STATION
Pap's got his pattent-right, and rich as all creation;?But where's the peace and comfort that we all had
before??Le's go a-visitin' back to Griggsby's Station--?Back where we ust to be so happy and so pore!
The likes of us a-livin' here! It's jest a mortal pity?To see us in this great big house, with cyarpets on the
stairs,?And the pump right in the kitchen! And the city! city!
city!--?And nothin' but the city all around us ever'wheres!
Climb clean above the roof and look from the steeple,
And never see a robin, nor a beech or ellum tree!?And right here in ear-shot of at least a thousan' people,
And none that neighbors with us or we want to go and
see!
Le's go a-visitin' back to Griggsby's Station--
Back where the latch-string's a-hangin' from the door,?And ever' neighbor round the place is dear as a relation--
Back where we ust to be so happy and so pore!
I want to see the Wiggenses, the whole kit-and-bilin',
A-drivin' up from Shallor Ford to stay the Sunday
through;?And I want to see 'em hitchin' at their son-in-law's and
pilin'?Out there at 'Lizy Ellen's like they ust to do!
I want to see the piece-quilts the Jones girls is makin';
And I want to pester Laury 'bout their freckled hired
hand,?And joke her 'bout the widower she come purt' nigh
a-takin',?Till her Pap got his pension 'lowed in time to save his
land.
Le's go a-visitin' back to Griggsby's Station--
Back where they's nothin' aggervatin' any more,?Shet away safe in the woods around the old location--
Back where we ust to be so happy and so pore!
I want to see Marindy and he'p her with her sewin',
And hear her talk so lovin' of her man that's dead and
gone,?And stand up with Emanuel to show me how he's
growin',?And smile as I have saw her 'fore she putt her mournin'
on.
And I want to see the Samples, on the old lower eighty,
Where John, our oldest boy, he was tuk and burried
--for?His own sake and Katy's,--and I want to cry with Katy
As she reads all his letters over, writ from The War.
What's in all this grand life and high situation,
And nary pink nor hollyhawk a-bloomin' at the door?--?Le's go a-visitin' back to Griggsby's Station--
Back where we ust to be so happy and so pore!
KNEE-DEEP IN JUNE
I
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'
II
Orchard's where I'd ruther be--?Needn't fence it in fer me!--?Jes' the whole sky overhead,?And the whole airth underneath--?Sorto' so's a man kin breathe?Like he ort, and kindo' has?Elbow-room to keerlessly?Sprawl out len'thways on the grass?Where the shadders thick and soft?As the kivvers on the bed?Mother fixes in the loft?Allus, when they's company!
III
Jes' a-sorto' lazin' there--?S'lazy, 'at you peek and peer?Through the wavin' leaves above,?Like a feller 'at's in love?And don't know it, ner don't keer!?Ever'thing you hear and see?Got some sort o' interest--?Maybe find a bluebird's nest?Tucked up there conveenently?Fer the boy 'at's ap' to be?Up some other apple-tree!?Watch the swallers skootin' past?'Bout as peert as you could ast,?Er the Bob-white raise and whiz?Where some other's whistle is
IV
Ketch a shadder down below,?And look up to find the crow--?Er a hawk,--away up there,?'Pearantly FROZE in the air!--?Hear the old hen squawk, and squat?Over ever' chick she's got,?Suddent-like!--and she knows where?That-air