The Best Times

When Old Folks they wuz young like us
An' little as you an' me, -

Them wuz the best times ever wuz
Er ever goin' to be!

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

A Feel In The Chris'mas-Air

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

An Old Friend

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

When Evening Shadows Fall

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

Igo And Ago

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

Pidgin

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

The Old Times Were The Best

Friends, my heart is half aweary
    Of its happiness to-night:
Though your songs are gay and cheery,
    And your spirits feather-light,
There's a ghostly music haunting
    Still the heart of every guest
And a voiceless chorus chanting
    That the Old Times were the best.

        CHORUS

All about is bright and pleasant
    With the sound of song and jest,
Yet a feeling's ever present
    That the Old Times were the best.

James Whitcomb Riley

The Old Days

The old days - the far days -
The overdear and fair! -
The old days - the lost days -
How lovely they were!
The old days of Morning,
With the dew-drench on the flowers
And apple-buds and blossoms
Of those old days of ours.

Then was the real gold
Spendthrift Summer flung;
Then was the real song
Bird or Poet sung!
There was never censure then, -
Only honest praise -
And all things were worthy of it
In the old days.

There bide the true friends -
The first and the best;
There clings the green grass
Close where they rest:
Would they were here? No; -
Would we were there!...
The old days - the lost days -
How lovely they were!

James Whitcomb Riley

The Good, Old-Fashioned People

When we hear Uncle Sidney tell
    About the long-ago
An' old, old friends he loved so well
    When he was young - My-oh! -
Us childern all wish we'd 'a' bin
    A-livin' then with Uncle, - so
We could a-kindo' happened in
    On them old friends he used to know! -
    The good, old-fashioned people -
    The hale, hard-working people -
    The kindly country people
        'At Uncle used to know!

They was God's people, Uncle says,
    An' gloried in His name,
An' worked, without no selfishness,
    An' loved their neighbers same
As they was kin: An' when they biled
    Their tree-molasses, in the Spring,
Er butchered in the Fall, they smiled
    An' sheered with all jist ever'thing! -


    The good, old-fash...

James Whitcomb Riley

When We First Played "Show"

Wasn't it a good time,
    Long Time Ago -
When we all were little tads
    And first played "Show"! -
When every newer day
    Wore as bright a glow
As the ones we laughed away -
    Long Time Ago!

Calf was in the back-lot;
    Clover in the red;
Bluebird in the pear-tree;
    Pigeons on the shed;
Tom a-chargin' twenty pins
    At the barn; and Dan
Spraddled out just like "The
    'Injarubber'-Man!"

Me and Bub and Rusty,
    Eck and Dunk and Sid,
'Tumblin' on the sawdust
    Like the A-rabs did;
Jamesy on the slack-rope
    In a wild retreat,
Grappling back, to start again -
    When he chalked his feet!

Wasn't Eck a wonder,
    In his stocking-tights?

Wasn't Dunk - his leaping lion -

James Whitcomb Riley

Romancin'

I' b'en a-kindo' "musin'," as the feller says, and I'm
About o' the conclusion that they hain't no better time,
When you come to cipher on it, than the times we ust to know
When we swore our first "dog-gone-it" sorto' solum-like and low!

You git my idy, do you? - LITTLE tads, you understand -
Jest a-wishin' thue and thue you that you on'y wuz a MAN. -
Yit here I am, this minit, even sixty, to a day,
And fergittin' all that's in it, wishm' jest the other way!

I hain't no hand to lectur' on the times, er dimonstrate
Whare the trouble is, er hector and domineer with Fate, -
But when I git so flurried, and so pestered-like and blue,
And so rail owdacious worried, let me tell you what I do! -

I jest gee-haw the hosses, and onhook the swingle-tree,
Whare the haze...

James Whitcomb Riley

Thinkin' Back

I've ben thinkin' back, of late,
S'prisin'! - And I'm here to state
I'm suspicious it's a sign
Of age, maybe, or decline
Of my faculties, - and yit
I'm not feelin' old a bit -
Any more than sixty-four
Ain't no young man any more!

Thinkin' back's a thing 'at grows
On a feller, I suppose -
Older 'at he gits, i jack,
More he keeps a-thinkin' back!
Old as old men git to be,
Er as middle-aged as me,
Folks'll find us, eye and mind
Fixed on what we've left behind -
Rehabilitatin'-like
Them old times we used to hike
Out barefooted fer the crick,
'Long 'bout Aprile first - to pick
Out some "warmest" place to go
In a-swimmin' - Ooh! my-oh!
Wonder now we hadn't died!
Grate horseradish on my hide<...

James Whitcomb Riley