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James Whitcomb Riley

1849
to
1916

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First Lines of James Whitcomb Riley

A Song of Long Ago: All listlessly we float As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone, But yesterday! . . . . Has she forgotten? On this very May I am tired of this! I so loved once, when Death came by I hid I'm bin a-visitun 'bout a week In youth he wrought, with eyes ablur, It tossed its head at the wooing breeze; It's the curiousest thing in creation, Last night -- how deep the darkness was! My Mary, O my Mary! O hear her sing -- to hear her sing The beauty of her hair bewilders me -- The touches of her hands are like the fall When age comes on! -- When chirping crickets fainter cry, When Lide married him -- w'y, she had to jes dee-fy Wilful we are in our infirmity