Rubaiyat of Doc Sifers   By: James Whitcomb Riley (1849-1916)

Other Books by James Whitcomb Riley

POEMS HERE AT HOME. NEGHBORLY POEMS. SKETCHES IN PROSE AND OCCASIONAL VERSES. AFTERWHILES. PIPES O' PAN (Prose and Verse). RHYMES OF CHILDHOOD. FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT. OLD FASHIONED ROSES (English Edition). GREEN FIELDS AND RUNNING BROOKS. ARMAZINDY. A CHILD WORLD. AN OLD SWEETHEART OF MINE.

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RUBÁIYÁT OF DOC SIFERS

BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY

ILLUSTRATED BY C. M. RELYEA

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PUBLISHED BY THE CENTURY CO. NEW YORK M DCCC XC VII

Copyright, 1897, BY THE CENTURY CO.

Copyright, 1897, BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY

THE DE VINNE PRESS.

TO

DR. FRANKLIN W. HAYS

THE LOYAL CHUM OF MY LATEST YOUTH AND LIKE FRIEND AND COMRADE STILL WITH ALL GRATEFUL AFFECTION OF

THE AUTHOR.

We found him in that Far away that yet to us seems near We vagrants of but yesterday when idlest youth was here, When lightest song and laziest mirth possessed us through and through, And all the dreamy summer earth seemed drugged with morning dew:

When our ambition scarce had shot a stalk or blade indeed: Yours, choked as in the garden spot you still deferred to "weed": Mine, but a pipe half cleared of pith as now it flats and whines In sympathetic cadence with a hiccough in the lines.

Aye, even then O timely hour! the High Gods did confer In our behalf: And, clothed in power, lo, came their Courier Not winged with flame nor shod with wind, but ambling down the pike , Horseback, with saddlebags behind, and guise all human like.

And it was given us to see, beneath his rustic rind, A native force and mastery of such inspiring kind, That half unconsciously we made obeisance. Smiling, thus His soul shone from his eyes and laid its glory over us.

Though, faring still that Far away that yet to us seems near, His form, through mists of yesterday, fades from the vision here, Forever as he rides, it is in retinue divine, The hearts of all his time are his, with your hale heart and mine.

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RUBÁIYÁT OF DOC SIFERS BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY

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RUBÁIYÁT OF DOC SIFERS

I

Ef you don't know DOC SIFERS I'll jes argy, here and now, You've bin a mighty little while about here, anyhow! 'Cause Doc he's rid these roads and woods er swum 'em, now and then And practised in this neighberhood sence hain't no tellin' when!

II

In radius o' fifteen mile'd, all p'ints o' compass round, No man er woman, chick er child, er team, on top o' ground, But knows him yes, and got respects and likin' fer him, too, Fer all his so to speak dee fects o' genius showin' through!

III

Some claims he's absent minded; some has said they wuz afeard To take his powders when he come and dosed 'em out, and 'peared To have his mind on somepin' else like County Ditch, er some New way o' tannin' mussrat pelts, er makin' butter come.

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IV

He's cur'ous they hain't no mistake about it! but he's got Enough o' extry brains to make a jury like as not. They's no describin' Sifers, fer, when all is said and done, He's jes hisse'f Doc Sifers ner they hain't no other one!

V

Doc's allus sociable, polite, and 'greeable, you'll find Pervidin' ef you strike him right and nothin' on his mind, Like in some hurry , when they've sent fer Sifers quick , you see, To 'tend some sawmill accident, er picnic jamboree;

VI

Er when the lightnin' 's struck some hare brained harvest hand; er in Some 'tempt o' suicidin' where they'd ort to try ag'in! I've knowed Doc haul up from a trot and talk a' hour er two When railly he'd a ort o' not a stopped fer " Howdy do! "

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VII

And then, I've met him 'long the road, a lopin' , starin' straight Ahead, and yit he never knowed me when I hollered " Yate, Old Saddlebags! " all hearty like, er " Who you goin' to kill? " And he'd say nothin' only hike on faster, starin' still!

VIII