The Old Tramp

A Old Tramp slep' in our stable wunst,
An' The Raggedy Man he caught
An' roust him up, an' chased him off
Clean out through our back lot!

An' th' Old Tramp hollered back an' said, -
"You're a purty man! - You air! -
With a pair o' eyes like two fried eggs,
An' a nose like a Bartlutt pear!"

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 Rose.

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

Grant. At Rest - August 8, 1885

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

Home At Night.

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

Where Shall We Land?

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

English

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The Tramp

He eats (a moment's stoppage to his song)
The stolen turnip as he goes along;
And hops along and heeds with careless eye
The passing crowded stage coach reeling bye.
He talks to none but wends his silent way,
And finds a hovel at the close of day,
Or under any hedge his house is made.
He has no calling and he owns no trade.
An old smoaked blanket arches oer his head,
A whisp of straw or stubble makes his bed.
He knows a lawless law that claims no kin
But meet and plunder on and feel no sin--
No matter where they go or where they dwell
They dally with the winds and laugh at hell.

John Clare

The Old Trundle-Bed

O the old trundle-bed where I slept when a boy!
What canopied king might not covet the joy?
The glory and peace of that slumber of mine,
Like a long, gracious rest in the bosom divine:
The quaint, homely couch, hidden close from the light,
But daintily drawn from its hiding at night.
O a nest of delight, from the foot to the head,
Was the queer little, clear little, old trundle-bed!

O the old trundle-bed, where I wondering saw
The stars through the window, and listened with awe
To the sigh of the winds as they tremblingly crept
Through the trees where the robin so restlessly slept:
Where I heard the low, murmurous chirp of the wren,
And the katydid listlessly chirrup again,
Till my fancies grew faint and were drowsily led
Through the maze of the dreams of the...

James Whitcomb Riley

Old John Henry

Old John's jes' made o' the commonest stuff -
        Old John Henry -
He's tough, I reckon, - but none too tough -
Too tough though's better than not enough!
        Says old John Henry.
He does his best, and when his best's bad,
He don't fret none, ner he don't git sad -
He simply 'lows it's the best he had:
        Old John Henry!

His doctern's jes' o' the plainest brand -
        Old John Henry -
A smilin' face and a hearty hand
'S religen 'at all folks understand,
        Says old John Henry.
He's stove up some with the rhumatiz,
And they hain't no shine on them shoes o' his,
And his hair hain't cut - but his eye-teeth is:
        Old John Henry!

He feeds hisse'f when the stock's all fed -
        Old John Henry -
And sleep...

James Whitcomb Riley

The Raggedy Man

O The Raggedy Man! He works fer Pa;
An' he's the goodest man ever you saw!
He comes to our house every day,
An' waters the horses, an' feeds 'em hay;
An' he opens the shed - an' we all ist laugh
When he drives out our little old wobble-ly calf;
An' nen - ef our hired girl says he can -
He milks the cow fer 'Lizabuth Ann. -
Aint he a' awful good Raggedy Man?
    Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man!

W'y, The Raggedy Man - he's ist so good
He splits the kindlin' an' chops the wood;
An' nen he spades in our garden, too,
An' does most things 'at boys can't do! -
He clumbed clean up in our big tree
An' shooked a' apple down fer me -
An' nother'n', too, fer 'Lizabuth Ann -
An' nother'n', too, fer The Raggedy Man. -
Aint he a' awful kind Raggedy Man?<...

James Whitcomb Riley

Our Old Friend Neverfail

O it's good to ketch a relative 'at's richer and don't run
When you holler out to hold up, and'll joke and have his fun;
It's good to hear a man called bad and then find out he's not,
Er strike some chap they call lukewarm 'at's really red-hot;

It's good to know the Devil's painted jes' a leetle black,
And it's good to have most anybody pat you on the back; -
But jes' the best thing in the world's our old friend Neverfail,
When he wags yer hand as honest as an old dog wags his tail!

I like to strike the man I owe the same time I can pay,
And take back things I've borried, and su'prise folks thataway;
I like to find out that the man I voted fer last fall,
That didn't git elected, was a scoundrel after all;
I like the man that likes the pore and he'ps 'em when he can;

James Whitcomb Riley

Elmer Brown

Awf'lest boy in this-here town
Er anywheres is Elmer Brown!
He'll mock you - yes, an' strangers, too,
An' make a face an' yell at you, -
    "Here's the way you look!"

Yes, an' wunst in School one day,
An' Teacher's lookin' wite that way,
He helt his slate, an' hide his head,
An' maked a face at her, an' said, -
    "Here's the way you look!"

An' sir! when Rosie Wheeler smile
One morning at him 'crosst the aisle,
He twist his face all up, an' black
His nose wiv ink, an' whisper back, -
    "Here's the way you look!"

Wunst when his Aunt's all dressed to call,
An' kiss him good-bye in the hall,
An' latch the gate an' start away,
He holler out to her an' say, -
    "Here's th...

James Whitcomb Riley