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Pipes O'Pan at Zekesbury   By: (1849-1916)

Book cover

First Page:

PIPES O' PAN AT ZEKESBURY

BY

JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY

INDIANAPOLIS

BOWEN MERRILL CO., PUBLISHERS

1895

TO MY BROTHER JOHN A. RILEY WITH MANY MEMORIES OF THE OLD HOME

CONTENTS

PAGE

AT ZEKESBURY 13

DOWN AROUND THE RIVER POEMS

DOWN AROUND THE RIVER 37

KNEELING WITH HERRICK 39

ROMANCIN' 40

HAS SHE FORGOTTEN 43

A' OLD PLAYED OUT SONG 45

THE LOST PATH 47

THE LITTLE TINY KICKSHAW 48

HIS MOTHER 49

KISSING THE ROD 50

HOW IT HAPPENED 51

BABYHOOD 53

THE DAYS GONE BY 54

MRS. MILLER 57

RHYMES OF RAINY DAYS

THE TREE TOAD 79

A WORN OUT PENCIL 80

THE STEPMOTHER 82

THE RAIN 83

THE LEGEND GLORIFIED 84

WHUR MOTHER IS 85

OLD MAN'S NURSERY RHYME 86

THREE DEAD FRIENDS 88

IN BOHEMIA 91

IN THE DARK 93

WET WEATHER TALK 94

WHERE SHALL WE LAND 96

AN OLD SETTLER'S STORY 101

SWEET KNOT AND GALAMUS

AN OLD SWEETHEART 159

MARTHY ELLEN 161

MOON DROWNED 163

LONG AFORE HE KNOWED 164

DEAR HANDS 166

THIS MAN JONES 167

TO MY GOOD MASTER 169

WHEN THE GREEN GITS BACK 170

AT BROAD RIPPLE 171

WHEN OLD JACK DIED 172

DOC SIFERS 174

AT NOON AND MIDNIGHT 177

A WILD IRISHMAN 181

RAGWEED AND FENNEL

WHEN MY DREAMS COME TRUE 205

A DOS'T O' BLUES 206

THE BAT 208

THE WAY IT WUZ 209

THE DRUM 212

TOM JOHNSON'S QUIT 214

LULLABY 216

IN THE SOUTH 217

THE OLD HOME BY THE MILL 219

A LEAVE TAKING 221

WAIT FOR THE MORNING 222

WHEN JUNE IS HERE 223

THE GILDED ROLL 227

PIPES O' PAN AT ZEKESBURY

The pipes of Pan! Not idler now are they Than when their cunning fashioner first blew The pith of music from them: Yet for you And me their notes are blown in many a way Lost in our murmurings for that old day That fared so well, without us. Waken to The pipings here at hand: The clear halloo Of truant voices, and the roundelay The waters warble in the solitude Of blooming thickets, where the robin's breast Sends up such ecstacy o'er dale and dell, Each tree top answers, till in all the wood There lingers not one squirrel in his nest Whetting his hunger on an empty shell.

AT ZEKESBURY.

The little town, as I recall it, was of just enough dignity and dearth of the same to be an ordinary county seat in Indiana "The Grand Old Hoosier State," as it was used to being howlingly referred to by the forensic stump orator from the old stand in the courthouse yard a political campaign being the wildest delight that Zekesbury might ever hope to call its own.

Through years the fitful happenings of the town and its vicinity went on the same the same! Annually about one circus ventured in, and vanished, and was gone, even as a passing trumpet blast; the usual rainy season swelled the "Crick," the driftage choking at "the covered bridge," and backing water till the old road looked amphibious; and crowds of curious townsfolk straggled down to look upon the watery wonder, and lean awe struck above it, and spit in it, and turn mutely home again... Continue reading book >>




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