The Treasure Of The Wise Man

O the night was dark and the night was late,
    And the robbers came to rob him;
And they picked the locks of his palace-gate,
    The robbers that came to rob him -
They picked the locks of his palace-gate,
Seized his jewels and gems of state,
His coffers of gold and his priceless plate, -
    The robbers that came to rob him.

But loud laughed he in the morning red! -
    For of what had the robbers robbed him? -
Ho! hidden safe, as he slept in bed,
    When the robbers came to rob him, -
They robbed him not of a golden shred
Of the childish dreams in his wise old head -
"And they're welcome to all things else," he said,
    When the robbers came to rob him.

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 Squirtgun Uncle Maked Me

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A Diverted Tragedy

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

The Song Of Yesterday

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

The Pixy People

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

English

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Little Jack Janitor

And there, in that ripe Summer-night, once more
A wintry coolness through the open door
And window seemed to touch each glowing face
Refreshingly; and, for a fleeting space,
The quickened fancy, through the fragrant air,
Saw snowflakes whirling where the roseleaves were,
And sounds of veriest jingling bells again
Were heard in tinkling spoons and glasses then.

Thus Uncle Mart's old poem sounded young
And crisp and fresh and clear as when first sung,
Away back in the wakening of Spring
When his rhyme and the robin, chorusing,
Rumored, in duo-fanfare, of the soon
Invading johnny-jump-ups, with platoon
On platoon of sweet-williams, marshaled fine
To blooméd blarings of the trumpet-vine.

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James Whitcomb Riley

Out of Nazareth

"He shall sleep unscathed of thieves
Who loves Allah and believes."
Thus heard one who shared the tent,
In the far-off Orient,
Of the Bedouin ben Ahrzz -
Nobler never loved the stars
Through the palm-leaves nigh the dim
Dawn his courser neighed to him!

He said: "Let the sands be swarmed
With such thieves as I, and thou
Shalt at morning rise unharmed,
Light as eyelash to the brow
Of thy camel amber-eyed,
Ever munching either side,
Striding still, with nestled knees,
Through the midnight's oases."

"Who can rob thee an thou hast
More than this that thou hast cast
At my feet - this dust of gold?
Simply this and that, all told!
Hast thou not a treasure of
Such a thing as men call love?"

"Can the dusky band I lead

James Whitcomb Riley

The Thief At Robin's Castle

There came a Thief one night to Robin's Castle,
He climbed up into a Tree;
And sitting with his head among the branches,
A wondrous Sight did see.

For there was Robin supping at his table,
With Candles of pure Wax,
His Dame and his two beauteous little Children,
With Velvet on their backs.

Platters for each there were shin-shining,
Of Silver many a pound,
And all of beaten Gold, three brimming Goblets,
Standing the table round.

The smell that rose up richly from the Baked Meats
Came thinning amid the boughs,
And much that greedy Thief who snuffed the night air-
His Hunger did arouse.

He watched them eating, drinking, laughing, talking,
Busy with finger and spoon,
While three most cunning Fiddlers, clad in crimson,
Played ...

Walter De La Mare

Out Of Nazareth.

    "He shall sleep unscathed of thieves
    Who loves Allah and believes."
    Thus heard one who shared the tent,
    In the far-off Orient,
    Of the Bedouin ben Ahrzz -
    Nobler never loved the stars
    Through the palm-leaves nigh the dim
    Dawn his courser neighed to him!

    He said: "Let the sands be swarmed
        With such thieves as I, and thou
    Shalt at morning rise, unharmed,
        Light as eyelash to the brow
    Of thy camel, amber-eyed,
    Ever munching either side,
    Striding still, with nestled knees,
    Through the midnight's oases.

    "Who can rob thee an thou hast
    More than this that thou hast cast
    At my feet - this dust of gold?
    Simply this and that, all told!
    Hast thou not ...

James Whitcomb Riley

Nursery Rhyme. LIII. Tales.

    There was a man, and he had naught,
        And robbers came to rob him;
    He crept up to the chimney pot,
        And then they thought they had him.

    But he got down on t'other side,
        And then they could not find him;
    He ran fourteen miles in fifteen days,
        And never look'd behind him.

Unknown

The Burier And His Comrade.

A close-fist had his money hoarded
Beyond the room his till afforded.
His avarice aye growing ranker,
(Whereby his mind of course grew blanker,)
He was perplex'd to choose a banker;
For banker he must have, he thought,
Or all his heap would come to nought.
'I fear,' said he, 'if kept at home,
And other robbers should not come,
It might be equal cause of grief
That I had proved myself the thief.'
The thief! Is to enjoy one's pelf
To rob or steal it from one's self?
My friend, could but my pity reach you,
This lesson I would gladly teach you,
That wealth is weal no longer than
Diffuse and part with it you can:
Without that power, it is a woe.
Would you for age keep back its flow?
Age buried 'neath its joyless snow?
With pains of getting, care...

Jean de La Fontaine