Poems by James Whitcomb Riley
A Full Harvest
... That last old yaller hunk o' harvest-ground-- ...
Harlie
... See, the face, though cold and white, ...
The Squirtgun Uncle Maked Me
... an' smiled, Thinkin', he said, o' when he wuz a child, ...
Dear Hands
... The blighting frost hath turned from green to crisp ...
Judith
... With light clouds and lulled with shade ...
Through Sleepy-Land
... And the Wee Folk--'way in there--in there-- ...
Babyhood
... Take this eager hand of mine and lead me by the finger ...
The Old Trundle-Bed
... Smoothed down and tucked round with the touches of love ...
The Ancient Printman
... guile, Is it the 'copy' on your 'case' ...
The Rivals; Or The Showman's Ruse
... straw hat, a bleeding nose, and a straight rent across one ...
Writin' Back To The Home-Folks
... That's why I like _old_ friends like you,-- ...
Thanksgiving
... That through them still, for all the coming years, ...
Wortermelon Time
... on. And thare's the corn around us, and the lispin' leaves and ...
Where Shall We Land
... Have lulled our sails to sleep, ...
By Any Other Name
... Cold as _we_ all looked at _her_, ...
