Want To Be Whur Mother Is.

"Want to be whur mother is! Want to be whur mother is!"
Jeemses Rivers! won't some one ever shet that howl o' his?
    That-air yellin' drives me wild!
    Cain't none of ye stop the child?
    Want jer Daddy? "Naw." Gee whizz!
    "Want to be whur mother is!"

"Want to be whur mother is! Want to be whur mother is!"
Coax him, Sairy! Mary, sing somepin far him! Lift him, Liz -
    Bang the clock-bell with the key -
    Er the meat-ax! Gee-mun-nee!
    Listen to them lungs o' his!
    "Want to be whur mother is!"

"Want to be whur mother is! Want to be whur mother is!"
Preacher guess'll pound all night on that old pulpit o' his;
    'Pears to me some wimmin jest
    Shows religious interest
    Mostly 'fore their fambly's riz!
    "Want to be whur mother is!"

        *        *        *        *        *

"Want to be whur mother is! Want to be whur mother is!"
Nights like these and whipperwills allus brings that voice of his!
    Sairy; Mary; 'Lizabeth;
    Don't set there and ketch yer death
    In the dew - er rheumatiz -
    Want to be whur mother is?

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

Our Own

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

Her Beautiful Hands

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

The Old Times Were The Best

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

Ike Walton's Prayer

James Whitcomb Riley, Simple Poetry

English

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A Mother-Song

Mother, O mother! forever I cry for you,
    Sing the old song I may never forget;
Even in slumber I murmur and sigh for you. -
    Mother, O mother,
        Sing low, "Little brother,
Sleep, for thy mother bends over thee yet!"

Mother, O mother! the years are so lonely,
    Filled but with weariness, doubt and regret!
Can't you come back to me - for to-night only,
    Mother, my mother,
        And sing, "Little brother,
Sleep, for thy mother bends over thee yet!"

Mother, O mother! of old I had never
    One wish denied me, nor trouble to fret;
Now - must I cry out all vainly forever, -
    Mother, sweet mother,
        O sing, "Little brother,
Sleep, for thy mother bends over thee yet!"

Mother, O mother! must longing and sorrow

James Whitcomb Riley

Old Man Whiskery-Whee-Kum-Wheeze

Old Man Whiskery-Whee-Kum-Wheeze
Lives 'way up in the leaves o' trees.
An' wunst I slipped up-stairs to play
In Aunty's room, while she 'uz away;
An' I clumbed up in her cushion-chair
An' ist peeked out o' the winder there;
An' there I saw - wite out in the trees -
Old Man Whiskery-Whee-Kum-Wheeze!

An' Old Man Whiskery-Whee-Kum-Wheeze
Would bow an' bow, with the leaves in the breeze,
An' waggle his whiskers an' raggledy hair,
An' bow to me in the winder there!
An' I 'd peek out, an' he'd peek in
An' waggle his whiskers an' bow ag'in,
Ist like the leaves'u'd wave in the breeze -
Old Man Whiskery-Whee-Kum-Wheeze!


An' Old Man Whiskery-Whee-Kum-Wheeze,
Seem-like, says to me: "See my bees
A-bringin' my dinner? An' see my cup
O' locu...

James Whitcomb Riley

How John Quit The Farm.

    Nobody on the old farm here but Mother, me and John,
    Except, of course, the extry he'p when harvest-time come on -
    And then, I want to say to you, we needed he'p about,
    As you'd admit, ef you'd a-seen the way the crops turned out!

    A better quarter-section, ner a richer soil warn't found
    Than this-here old-home place o' ourn fer fifty miles around! -
    The house was small - but plenty-big we found it from the day
    That John - our only livin' son - packed up and went way.

    You see, we tuck sich pride in John - his mother more 'n me -
    That's natchurul; but both of us was proud as proud could be;
    Fer the boy, from a little chap, was most oncommon bright,
    And seemed in work as well as play to take the same delight.
...

James Whitcomb Riley

Up And Down Old Brandywine

Up and down old Brandywine,
    In the days 'at's past and gone -
With a dad-burn hook-and line
    And a saplin' pole - swawn!
        I've had more fun, to the square
        Inch, than ever ANYwhere!
        Heaven to come can't discount MINE
        Up and down old Brandywine!

Hain't no sense in WISHIN' - yit
    Wisht to goodness I COULD jes
"Gee" the blame' world round and git
    Back to that old happiness! -
        Kindo' drive back in the shade
        "The old Covered Bridge" there laid
        'Crosst the crick, and sorto' soak
        My soul over, hub and spoke!

Honest, now! - it hain't no DREAM
    'At I'm wantin', - but THE FAC'S
As they wuz; the same old stream,
    And the same old times, i jacks! -
        Gim...

James Whitcomb Riley

Prior To Miss Belle's Appearance

What makes you come HERE fer, Mister,
    So much to our house? - SAY?
Come to see our big sister! -
An' Charley he says 'at you kissed her
    An' he ketched you, th'uther day! -
Didn' you, Charley? - But we p'omised Belle
An' crossed our heart to never to tell -
'Cause SHE gived us some o' them-er
Chawk'lut-drops 'at you bringed to her!

Charley he's my little b'uther -
    An' we has a-mostest fun,
Don't we, Charley? - Our Muther,
Whenever we whips one anuther,
    Tries to whip US - an' we RUN -
Don't we, Charley? - An' nen, bime-by,
Nen she gives us cake - an' pie -
Don't she, Charley? - when we come in
An' pomise never to do it ag'in!

HE'S named Charley. - I'm WILLIE -
    An' I'm got the purtiest name!
But Uncle Bob HE cal...

James Whitcomb Riley

A Bear Family

Wunst, 'way West in Illinoise,
Wuz two Bears an' their two boys:
An' the two boys' names, you know,
Wuz - like ours is, - Jim an' Jo;
An' their parunts' names wuz same's,
All big grown-up people's names, -
Ist Miz Bear, the neighbers call
'Em, an' Mister Bear - 'at's all.
Yes - an' Miz Bear scold him, too,
Ist like grown folks shouldn't do!


Wuz a grea'-big river there,
An', 'crosst that, 's a mountain where
Old Bear said some day he'd go,
Ef she don't quit scoldin'so!
So, one day when he been down
The river, fishin', 'most to town,
An' come back 'thout no fish a-tall,
An' Jim an' Jo they run an' bawl
An' tell their ma their pa hain't fetch'
No fish, - she scold again an' ketch
Her old broom up ...

James Whitcomb Riley