Away

I cannot say, and I will not say
That he is dead. He is just away!

With a cheery smile, and a wave of the hand
He has wandered into an unknown land,

And left us dreaming how very fair
It needs must be, since he lingers there.

And you - O you, who the wildest yearn
For the old-time step and the glad return,

Think of him faring on, as dear
In the love of There as the love of Here;

And loyal still, as he gave the blows
Of his warrior-strength to his country's foes.

Mild and gentle, as he was brave,
When the sweetest love of his life he gave

To simple things: Where the violets grew
Blue as the eyes they were likened to,

The touches of his hands have strayed
As reverently as his lips have prayed:

When the little brown thrush that harshly chirred
Was dear to him as the mocking-bird;

And he pitied as much as a man in pain
A writhing honey-bee wet with rain.

Think of him still as the same, I say:
He is not dead - he is just away!

James Whitcomb Riley

James Whitcomb Riley

James Whitcomb Riley was an American writer, poet, and best-selling author. He was known as the "Hoosier Poet" and the "Children's Poet" for his dialect works and children's poetry respectively. Over his career, Riley authored approximately 1,000 poems, including "Little Orphant Annie" and "The Raggedy Man". His influence extended into the 20th century, and his works continued to be celebrated for their nostalgic and rural themes.

James Whitcomb Riley

English

Suggested Poems

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Where-Away.

    O the Lands of Where-Away!
    Tell us - tell us - where are they?
    Through the darkness and the dawn
    We have journeyed on and on -
    From the cradle to the cross -
    From possession unto loss, -
    Seeking still, from day to day,
    For the lands of Where-Away.

    When our baby-feet were first
    Planted where the daisies burst,
    And the greenest grasses grew
    In the fields we wandered through,
    On, with childish discontent,
    Ever on and on we went,
    Hoping still to pass, some day,
    O'er the verge of Where-Away.

    Roses laid their velvet lips
    On our own, with fragrant sips;
    But their kisses held us not,
    All their sweetness we forgot; -
    Though the brambles in our track
...

James Whitcomb Riley

The Home-Going.

    We must get home - for we have been away
    So long it seems forever and a day!
    And O so very homesick we have grown,
    The laughter of the world is like a moan
    In our tired hearing, and its songs as vain, -
    We must get home - we must get home again!

    We must get home: It hurts so, staying here,
    Where fond hearts must be wept out tear by tear,
    And where to wear wet lashes means, at best,
    When most our lack, the least our hope of rest
    When most our need of joy, the more our pain -
    We must get home - we must get home again!

    We must get home: All is so quiet there:
    The touch of loving hands on brow and hair -
    Dim rooms, wherein the sunshine is made mild - -
    The lost love of the mother and the child<...

James Whitcomb Riley

The Ranger

Robert Rawlin! Frosts were falling
When the ranger's horn was calling
Through the woods to Canada.

Gone the winter's sleet and snowing,
Gone the spring-time's bud and blowing,
Gone the summer's harvest mowing,
And again the fields are gray.
Yet away, he's away!
Faint and fainter hope is growing
In the hearts that mourn his stay.

Where the lion, crouching high on
Abraham's rock with teeth of iron,
Glares o'er wood and wave away,
Faintly thence, as pines far sighing,
Or as thunder spent and dying,
Come the challenge and replying,
Come the sounds of flight and fray.
Well-a-day! Hope and pray!
Some are living, some are lying
In their red graves far away.

Straggling rangers, worn with dangers,
Homeward faring, weary strang...

John Greenleaf Whittier

His Room

"I'm home again, my dear old Room,
I'm home again, and happy, too,
As, peering through the brightening gloom,
I find myself alone with you:
    Though brief my stay, nor far away,
    I missed you - missed you night and day -
    As wildly yearned for you as now. -
    Old Room, how are you, anyhow?

"My easy chair, with open arms,
Awaits me just within the door;
The littered carpet's woven charms
Have never seemed so bright before, -
    The old rosettes and mignonettes
    And ivy-leaves and violets,
    Look up as pure and fresh of hue
    As though baptized in morning dew.

"Old Room, to me your homely walls
Fold round me like the arms of love,
And over all my being falls
A blessing pure as from above -
    Even as a nestling ...

James Whitcomb Riley

Song Of Parting

Say farewell, and let me go;
Shatter every vow!
All the future can bestow
Will be welcome now!
    And if this fair hand I touch
    I have worshipped overmuch,
    It was my mistake - and so,
    Say farewell, and let me go.

Say farewell, and let me go:
Murmur no regret,
Stay your tear-drops ere they flow -
Do not waste them yet!
    They might pour as pours the rain,
    And not wash away the pain:
    I have tried them and I know. -
    Say farewell, and let me go.

Say farewell, and let me go:
Think me not untrue -
True as truth is, even so
I am true to you!
    If the ghost of love may stay
    Where my fond heart dies to-day,
    I am with you alway - so,
    Say farewell, and let me go.

James Whitcomb Riley

In Memory - James T. Fields

As a guest who may not stay
Long and sad farewells to say
Glides with smiling face away,

Of the sweetness and the zest
Of thy happy life possessed
Thou hast left us at thy best.

Warm of heart and clear of brain,
Of thy sun-bright spirit's wane
Thou hast spared us all the pain.

Now that thou hast gone away,
What is left of one to say
Who was open as the day?

What is there to gloss or shun?
Save with kindly voices none
Speak thy name beneath the sun.

Safe thou art on every side,
Friendship nothing finds to hide,
Love's demand is satisfied.

Over manly strength and worth,
At thy desk of toil, or hearth,
Played the lambent light of mirth,

Mirth that lit, but never burned;
All thy blame to pity ...

John Greenleaf Whittier