The Circus-Day Parade

Oh, the Circus-Day parade! How the bugles played and played!
And how the glossy horses tossed their flossy manes, and neighed,
As the rattle and the rhyme of the tenor-drummer's time
Filled all the hungry hearts of us with melody sublime!

How the grand band-wagon shone with a splendor all its own,
And glittered with a glory that our dreams had never known!
And how the boys behind, high and low of every kind,
Marched in unconscious capture, with a rapture undefined!

How the horsemen, two and two, with their plumes of white and blue,
And crimson, gold and purple, nodding by at me and you.
Waved the banners that they bore, as the Knights in days of yore,
Till our glad eyes gleamed and glistened like the spangles that they wore!

How the graceless-graceful stride of the elephant was eyed,
And the capers of the little horse that cantered at his side!
How the shambling camels, tame to the plaudits of their fame,
With listless eyes came silent, masticating as they came.

How the cages jolted past, with each wagon battened fast,
And the mystery within it only hinted of at last
From the little grated square in the rear, and nosing there
The snout of some strange animal that sniffed the outer air!

And, last of all, The Clown, making mirth for all the town,
With his lips curved ever upward and his eyebrows ever down,
And his chief attention paid to the little mule that played
A tattoo on the dashboard with his heels, in the parade.

Oh! the Circus-Day parade! How the bugles played and played!
And how the glossy horses tossed their flossy manes and neighed.
As the rattle and the rhyme of the tenor-drummer's time
Filled all the hungry hearts of us with melody sublime!

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

The Old Year And The New.

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

Tired Out

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

The Good, Old-Fashioned People

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

Them Flowers.

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

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

The Circus.

O, the circus parade! O, the circus parade!
    It lays all the politics back in the shade,
And the merchants forget that they've got any trade,
    While many remember they've never been paid
As they rushed out to look at the circus parade;
    And preachers who used to be terribly staid
Yell just like boys at the circus parade.
    Every one's there, both the mistress and maid,
All looking on at the circus parade.

And out at the grounds, when you've seen the parade,
    How delicious it is to drink pink lemonade;
And look at the elephant twirling his trunk,
    And laugh at the capers cut by the monk;
Watch the old clown who is acting a dunce,
    And try hard to see three rings going at once;
Gaze at the ringmaster cracking his whip,
    And watch the...

Edwin C. Ranck

The King

They rode right out of the morning sun -
A glimmering, glittering cavalcade
Of knights and ladies and every one
In princely sheen arrayed;
And the king of them all, O he rode ahead,
With a helmet of gold, and a plume of red
That spurted about in the breeze and bled
In the bloom of the everglade.

And they rode high over the dewy lawn,
With brave, glad banners of every hue
That rolled in ripples, as they rode on
In splendor, two and two;
And the tinkling links of the golden reins
Of the steeds they rode rang such refrains
As the castanets in a dream of Spain's
Intensest gold and blue.

And they rode and rode; and the steeds they neighed
And pranced, and the sun on their glossy hides
Flickered and lightened and glanced and played
Like th...

James Whitcomb Riley

The Big Top

The boom and blare of the big brass band is cheering to my heart
And I like the smell of the trampled grass and elephants and hay.
I take off my hat to the acrobat with his delicate, strong art,
And the motley mirth of the chalk-faced clown drives all my care away.

I wish I could feel as they must feel, these players brave and fair,
Who nonchalantly juggle death before a staring throng.
It must be fine to walk a line of silver in the air
And to cleave a hundred feet of space with a gesture like a song.

Sir Henry Irving never knew a keener, sweeter thrill
Than that which stirs the breast of him who turns his painted face
To the circling crowd who laugh aloud and clap hands with a will
As a tribute to the clown who won the great wheel-barrow race.

Now, one shall w...

Alfred Joyce Kilmer

Baby's Trotting Song

[Daintily]

Come, see how the ladies ride,
All so pretty, all so gay,
In their beauty, in their pride,
Down Broadway;
Prancing horses silver shod,
All so pretty, all so gay;
Princely feathers bend and nod,
Down Broadway.


[Roughly]

Jiggety-jog, jiggety-jog,
Over the mountain, through the bog--
That's the way the farmers go,
Hear the news and see the show;
Pumpkins round strapped on behind,
Eggs in baskets, too, you'll find,
Soon to change for calico--
That's the way the farmers go.


[Tea-Bell Accompaniment]

Bells a-jingle, fingers tingle,
Ditto toes, likewise nose.
The wind doth blow,
And all the snow
Around doth scatter;
Our teeth they chatter,
But that's no matter--
The ...

Clara Doty Bates

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

The Little Man In The Tinshop

When I was a little boy, long ago,
And spoke of the theater as the "show,"
The first one that I went to see,
Mother's brother it was took me -
(My uncle, of course, though he seemed to be
Only a boy - I loved him so!)
And ah, how pleasant he made it all!
And the things he knew that I should know! -
The stage, the "drop," and the frescoed wall;
The sudden flash of the lights; and oh,
The orchestra, with its melody,
And the lilt and jingle and jubilee
    Of "The Little Man in the Tinshop"!

For Uncle showed me the "Leader" there,
With his pale, bleak forehead and long, black hair;
Showed me the "Second," and "'Cello," and "Bass,"
And the "B-Flat," pouting and puffing his face
At the little end of the horn he blew
Silvery bubbles of music t...

James Whitcomb Riley