James Whitcomb Riley

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

James Whitcomb Riley Poems

201. Luther Benson 4/9/2010
202. May I Not Weep With You 4/9/2010
203. Harlie 4/9/2010
204. Has She Forgotten? 4/9/2010
205. June 4/9/2010
206. Grandfather Squeers 4/9/2010
207. Blind 4/9/2010
208. The Old Times Were The Best 1/3/2003
209. An Old Year's Address 4/9/2010
210. A Spring Song And A Later 4/9/2010
211. How It Happened 4/9/2010
212. Moon-Drowned 4/9/2010
213. My Mary 4/9/2010
214. Marthy Ellen 4/9/2010
215. Home At Night 4/9/2010
216. Intellectual Limitations 4/9/2010
217. Mr. Hammond's Parable--The Dreamer 4/9/2010
218. At Crown Hill 4/9/2010
219. My Friend 4/9/2010
220. My Jolly Friend's Secret 4/9/2010
221. Iry And Billy Jo 4/9/2010
222. It's_Got_To Be 4/9/2010
223. My Dancin'-Days Is Over 4/9/2010
224. Out Of The Hitherwhere 4/9/2010
225. A Voice From The Farm 4/9/2010
226. Hik-Tee-Dik! 4/9/2010
227. Igo And Ago 4/9/2010
228. An Empty Nest 4/9/2010
229. His Vigil 4/9/2010
230. How John Quit The Farm 4/9/2010
231. Illileo 4/9/2010
232. With Hale Affection And Abiding Faith These Rhymes And Pictures Are Inscribed To The Children Everywhere 4/9/2010
233. Wortermelon Time 4/9/2010
234. The Ripest Peach 1/3/2003
235. Almon Keefer 4/9/2010
236. A Wraith Of Summertime 4/9/2010
237. A Very Youthful Affair 4/9/2010
238. A Tale Of The Airly Days 4/9/2010
239. When Lide Married _Him_ 4/9/2010
240. Back From A Two-Years' Sentence 4/9/2010

Comments about James Whitcomb Riley

  • Carolyn Binkley (10/6/2005 6:47:00 PM)

    James Whitcomb Riley is by far one of my favorite poets of all time. I love his imagery, his imagination, his rhyme and rhythm. And most of all I love his sense of 'simple' and his connection to the nature in all of us. He cleverly plays with that which is real, unlike Lewis Carroll who cleverly plays with that which is not.

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Best Poem of James Whitcomb Riley

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, bareheaded, 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...

Read the full of When The Frost Is On The Punkin

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!

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