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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