James Whitcomb Riley

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

James Whitcomb Riley Poems

281. Where Shall We Land 4/9/2010
282. Extremes 4/9/2010
283. Grant At Rest-- August 8, 1885 4/9/2010
284. His Room 4/9/2010
285. A Song Of Long Ago 4/9/2010
286. Craqueodoom 4/9/2010
287. Natural Perversities 4/9/2010
288. Kissing The Rod 4/9/2010
289. Dream-March 4/9/2010
290. Dawn, Noon And Dewfall 4/9/2010
291. An Impetuous Resolve 4/9/2010
292. Jim 4/9/2010
293. Elmer Brown 4/9/2010
294. I Smoke My Pipe 4/9/2010
295. Limitations Of Genius 4/9/2010
296. A Scrawl 4/9/2010
297. Dan Paine 4/9/2010
298. Our Little Girl 4/9/2010
299. A Voice From The Farm 4/9/2010
300. Lockerbie Street 4/9/2010
301. His Mother's Way 4/9/2010
302. Honey Dripping From The Comb 4/9/2010
303. Just To Be Good 4/9/2010
304. Writin' Back To The Home-Folks 4/9/2010
305. Winter Fancies 4/9/2010
306. Naughty Claude 4/9/2010
307. Noey's Night-Piece 4/9/2010
308. John Alden And Percilly 4/9/2010
309. A New Year's Time At Willards's 4/9/2010
310. A Very Youthful Affair 4/9/2010
311. Blooms Of May 4/9/2010
312. Our Own 4/9/2010
313. My Father's Halls 4/9/2010
314. While The Musician Played 4/9/2010
315. When Early March Seems Middle May 4/9/2010
316. At Sea 4/9/2010
317. Bedouin 4/9/2010
318. As Created 4/9/2010
319. Longfellow 4/9/2010
320. Let Us Forget 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

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,

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