Riley Farm-Rhymes

James Whitcomb Riley
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Title: Riley Farm-Rhymes
Author: James Whitcomb Riley
Release Date: December, 2003 [Etext #4783]
[This file was last
updated on March 18, 2002]
Edition: 10
Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII
0. START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT RILEY
FARM-RHYMES ***
Produced by Robert Rowe, Charles Franks
and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team.
RILEY FARM-RHYMES
JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY
INSCRIBED WITH ALL GRATEFUL ESTEEM
TO THE GOOD OLD-FASHIONED PEOPLE
The deadnin' and the thicket's jes' a b'ilin' full o' June, From the rattle o'
the cricket, to the yaller-hammer's tune; And the catbird in the bottom
and the sap-suck on the
snag,
Seems's ef they cain't--od-rot-'em!--jes' do nothin' else
but brag!
There' music in the twitter o' the bluebird and the jay,
And that sassy
little critter jes' a-peckin' all the day;
There' music in the "flicker,"
and there' music in the
thrush,
And there' music in the snicker o' the chipmunk in the
brush!--
There' music all around me!--And I go back--in a dream
Sweeter yit
than ever found me fast asleep:--And, in the
stream
That used to split the medder wher' the dandylions
growed,
I stand knee-deep, and redder than the sunset down the

road.
CONTENTS
BROOK SONG, THE
CANARY AT THE FARM, A
CLOVER,
THE
COUNTRY PATHWAY, A
GRIGGSBY'S STATION

HOW JOHN QUIT THE FARM
JUNE
KNEE-DEEP IN JUNE

"MYLO JONES'S WIFE"
OLD-FASHIONED ROSES
OLD
MAN'S NURSERY RHYME
OLD OCTOBER
OLD
WINTERS ON THE FARM
ORCHARD LANDS OF LONG
AGO, THE
ROMANCIN'
SEPTEMBER DARK
SONG OF
LONG AGO, A
TALE OF THE AIRLY DAYS, A

THOUGHTS FER THE DISCURAGED FARMER

TREE-TOAD, THE
UP AND DOWN OLD BRANDYWINE

WET-WEATHER TALK
WHEN EARLY MARCH SEEMS
MIDDLE MAY
WHEN THE FROST IS ON THE PUNKIN

WHEN THE GREEN GITS BACK IN THE TREES
WHERE
THE CHILDREN USED TO PLAY
WORTERMELON TIME
RILEY FARM-RHYMES
THE ORCHARD LANDS OF LONG AGO
The orchard lands of Long Ago!
O drowsy winds, awake, and blow

The snowy blossoms back to me,
And all the buds that used to be!

Blow back along the grassy ways
Of truant feet, and lift the haze
Of
happy summer from the trees
That trail their tresses in the seas
Of
grain that float and overflow
The orchard lands of Long Ago!
Blow back the melody that slips
In lazy laughter from the lips
That
marvel much if any kiss
Is sweeter than the apple's is.
Blow back
the twitter of the birds--

The lisp, the titter, and the words
Of
merriment that found the shine
Of summer-time a glorious wine

That drenched the leaves that loved it so,
In orchard lands of Long
Ago!

O memory! alight and sing
Where rosy-bellied pippins cling,
And
golden russets glint and gleam,
As, in the old Arabian dream,
The
fruits of that enchanted tree
The glad Aladdin robbed for me!
And,
drowsy winds, awake and fan
My blood as when it overran
A heart
ripe as the apples grow
In orchard lands of Long Ago!
WHEN THE FROST IS ON THE PUNKIN
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in
the shock,
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin'
turkey-cock,
And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the
hens,
And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;
O, it's
then's the times a feller is a-feelin' at his best, With the risin' sun to
greet him from a night of peaceful
rest,
As he leaves the house, bare-headed, and goes out to feed
the stock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the
shock.
They's something kindo' harty-like about the atmusfere
When the heat
of summer's over and the coolin' fall is
here--
Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossums on the
trees,
And the mumble of the hummin'-birds and buzzin' of the
bees;
But the air's so appetizin'; and the landscape through the
haze
Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days
Is a
pictur' that no painter has the colorin' to mock--
When the frost is on
the punkin and the fodder's in the

shock.
The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn,
And the raspin' of
the tangled leaves, as golden as the
morn;
The
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