James Whitcomb Riley

(7 October 1849 - 22 July 1916 / Greenfield, Indiana)

James Whitcomb Riley Poems

41. A Parting Guest 1/4/2003
42. A Passing Hail 1/3/2003
43. A Poet's Wooing 1/3/2003
44. A Prospective Visit 4/9/2010
45. A Rough Sketch 4/9/2010
46. A Scrawl 4/9/2010
47. A Song 4/9/2010
48. A Song Of Long Ago 4/9/2010
49. A Song Of Singing 4/9/2010
50. A Song Of The Road 1/3/2003
51. A Southern Singer 4/9/2010
52. A Spring Song And A Later 4/9/2010
53. A Sudden Shower 4/9/2010
54. A Summer Afternoon 1/3/2003
55. A Summer Sunrise 4/9/2010
56. A Tale Of The Airly Days 4/9/2010
57. A Test Of Love 4/9/2010
58. A Variation 4/9/2010
59. A Very Youthful Affair 4/9/2010
60. A Voice From The Farm 4/9/2010
61. A Water-Color 4/9/2010
62. A Worn-Out Pencil 4/9/2010
63. A Wraith Of Summertime 4/9/2010
64. A Wrangdillion 4/9/2010
65. Almon Keefer 4/9/2010
66. An Autumnal Extravaganza 4/9/2010
67. An Empty Nest 4/9/2010
68. An Impetuous Resolve 4/9/2010
69. An Old Friend 4/9/2010
70. An Old Sweetheart Of Mine 4/9/2010
71. An Old Year's Address 4/9/2010
72. An Out-Worn Sappho 4/9/2010
73. Anselmo 4/9/2010
74. Art And Love 4/9/2010
75. As Created 4/9/2010
76. As My Uncle Used To Say 4/9/2010
77. At Broad Ripple 1/3/2003
78. At Crown Hill 4/9/2010
79. At Last 4/9/2010
80. At Noey's House 4/9/2010
Best Poem of James Whitcomb Riley

A Life-Lesson

There! little girl; don't cry!
They have broken your doll, I know;
And your tea-set blue,
And your play-house, too,
Are things of the long ago;
But childish troubles will soon pass by. --
There! little girl; don't cry!

There! little girl; don't cry!
They have broken your slate, I know;
And the glad, wild ways
Of your schoolgirl days
Are things of the long ago;
But life and love will soon come by. --
There! little girl; don't cry!

There! little girl; don't cry!
They have broken your heart I know;
And the rainbow gleams ...

Read the full of A Life-Lesson

A Parting Guest

What delightful hosts are they --
   Life and Love!
Lingeringly I turn away,
   This late hour, yet glad enough
They have not withheld from me
   Their high hospitality.
So, with face lit with delight
   And all gratitude, I stay
   Yet to press their hands and say,

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