James Whitcomb Riley

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

James Whitcomb Riley Poems

321. The Legend Glorified 4/9/2010
322. The Little Coat 4/9/2010
323. The Little Fat Doctor 4/9/2010
324. The Little Lady 4/9/2010
325. The Little Town O' Tailholt 4/9/2010
326. The Loehrs And The Hammonds 4/9/2010
327. The Lost Kiss 4/9/2010
328. The Lost Path 4/9/2010
329. The Lost Thrill 4/9/2010
330. The Lugubrious Whing-Whang 4/9/2010
331. The Merman 1/3/2003
332. The Mulberry Tree 4/9/2010
333. The Nine Little Goblins 4/9/2010
334. The Old Days 4/9/2010
335. The Old Guitar 1/3/2003
336. The Old Hay-Mow 4/9/2010
337. The Old Home By The Mill 4/9/2010
338. The Old Retired Sea Captain 4/9/2010
339. The Old Swimmin' Hole 12/31/2002
340. The Old Times Were The Best 1/3/2003
341. The Old Tramp 4/9/2010
342. The Old Trundle-Bed 4/9/2010
343. The Old Year And The New 4/9/2010
344. The Old-Home Folks 4/9/2010
345. The Orchard Lands Of Long Ago 4/9/2010
346. The Passing Of A Heart 4/9/2010
347. The Pathos Of Applause 4/9/2010
348. The Pet Coon 4/9/2010
349. The Pixy People 4/9/2010
350. The Plaint Human 4/9/2010
351. The Quest 4/9/2010
352. The Quiet Lodger 4/9/2010
353. The Raggedy Man 12/31/2002
354. The Rain 4/9/2010
355. The Rainy Morning 4/9/2010
356. The Rambo-Tree 4/9/2010
357. The Rapture Of The Year 1/3/2003
358. The Rider Of The Knee 4/9/2010
359. The Ripest Peach 1/3/2003
360. The Rival 1/4/2003
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

Orlie Wilde

A goddess, with a siren's grace,--
A sun-haired girl on a craggy place
Above a bay where fish-boats lay
Drifting about like birds of prey.

Wrought was she of a painter's dream,--
Wise only as are artists wise,
My artist-friend, Rolf Herschkelhiem,
With deep sad eyes of oversize,

[Hata Bildir]