Riley Farm-Rhymes | Page 6

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 hawk is, well as you!--

You jes' bet yer life she do!--
Eyes a-glitterin' like glass,
Waitin'
till he makes a pass!
V
Pee-wees' singin', to express
My opinion, 's second class,
Yit you'll
hear 'em more er less;
Sapsucks gittin' down to biz,
Weedin' out the lonesomeness;
Mr.
Bluejay, full o' sass,
In them base-ball clothes o' his,
Sportin' round
the orchard jes'
Like he owned the premises!
Sun out in the fields kin sizz,
But flat on yer back, I guess,
In the shade's where glory is!
That's jes' what I'd like to do
Stiddy
fer a year er two!
VI
Plague! ef they ain't somepin' in
Work 'at kindo' goes ag'in'
My
convictions!--'long about
Here in June especially!--
Under some old
apple-tree,
Jes' a-restin' through and through
I could git along
without
Nothin' else at all to do
Only jes' a-wishin' you
Wuz
a-gittin' there like me,
And June was eternity!
VII
Lay out there and try to see
Jes' how lazy you kin be!--

Tumble round and souse yer head
In the clover-bloom, er pull
Yer straw hat acrost yer eyes
And peek through it at the skies,

Thinkin' of old chums 'at's dead,
Maybe, smilin' back at you
In betwixt the beautiful
Clouds o' gold and white and blue.
Month a man kin railly love

June, you know, I'm talkin' of!
VIII
March ain't never nothin' new!
Aprile's altogether too
Brash fer me!
and May--I jes'
'Bominate its promises,
Little hints o' sunshine and

Green around the timber-land--
A few blossoms, and a few

Chip-birds, and a sprout er two,--
Drap asleep, and it turns in
'Fore
daylight and SNOWS ag'in!--
But when JUNE comes--Clear my
th'oat
With wild honey!--Rench my hair
In the dew! and hold my
coat!
Whoop out loud! and th'ow my hat!--
June wants me, and I'm to spare!

Spread them shadders anywhere,
I'll git down and waller there,

And obleeged to you at that!
SEPTEMBER DARK
I
The air falls chill;
The whippoorwill
Pipes lonesomely behind the
hill:
The dusk grows dense,
The silence tense;
And lo, the
katydids commence.
II
Through shadowy rifts
Of woodland, lifts
The low, slow moon, and
upward drifts,
While left and right
The fireflies' light
Swirls

eddying in the skirts of Night.
III
O Cloudland, gray
And level, lay
Thy mists across the face of Day!

At foot and head,
Above the dead,
O Dews, weep on
uncomforted!
THE CLOVER
Some sings of the lily, and daisy, and rose,
And the pansies and pinks that the Summertime
throws
In the green grassy lap of the medder that lays
Blinkin' up at
the skyes through the sunshiney days;
But what is the lily and all of
the rest
Of the flowers, to a man with a hart in his brest
That was
dipped brimmin' full of the honey and dew
Of the sweet
clover-blossoms his babyhood knew?
I never set eyes on a
clover-field now,
Er fool round a stable, er climb in the mow,
But
my childhood comes back jest as clear and as plane
As the smell of
the clover I'm sniffin' again;
And I wunder away in a bare-footed
dream,
Whare I tangle my toes in the blossoms that gleam
With the
dew of the dawn of the morning of love
Ere it wept ore the graves
that I'm weepin' above.
And so I love clover--it seems like a part
Of the sacerdest sorrows
and joys of my hart;
And wharever it blossoms, oh, thare let me bow

And thank the good God as I'm thankin' Him now;
And I pray to
Him still fer the stren'th when I die,
To go out in