{"1": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3349", "width": "1887", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0001.jp2"}, "2": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0002.jp2"}, "3": {"fulltext": "\\\\0\\n,-0 v\\noo\\nV^^\\nV^\\n8 1\\nx^^..\\nd\\nv^\\n^^A v^\\nd-\\nN", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0003.jp2"}, "4": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0004.jp2"}, "5": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0005.jp2"}, "6": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0006.jp2"}, "7": {"fulltext": "HOME-FOLKS", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0007.jp2"}, "8": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0008.jp2"}, "9": {"fulltext": "Digitized by the Internet Archive\\nin 2010 with funding from\\nThe Library of Congress\\nhttp://www.archive.org/details/homefolks01rile", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0009.jp2"}, "10": {"fulltext": "h\\nNEGHBORLY POEMS\\nSKETCHES IN PROSE, WITH\\nINTERLUDING VERSES\\nAFTERWHILES\\nPIPES O PAN (Prose and Verse)\\nRHYMES OF CHILDHOOD\\nFLYING ISLANDS OF THE\\nNIGHT\\nGREEN FIELDS AND RUN=\\nNING BROOKS\\nARMAZINDY\\nA CHILD-WORLD\\nHOME-FOLKS\\nOLD-FASHIONED ROSES\\n(English Edition)\\nTHE GOLDEN YEAR\\n(English Edition)\\nPOEMS HERE AT HOME\\nRUBllYlT OF DOC SIFERS\\nCHILD-RHYMES, WITH\\nHOOSIER PICTURES\\nRILEY LOVE-LYRICS\\n(Pictures by Dyer)", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0010.jp2"}, "11": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0011.jp2"}, "12": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0012.jp2"}, "13": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0013.jp2"}, "14": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0014.jp2"}, "15": {"fulltext": "HOME-FOLKS\\nJAMES WHITCOMB RILEY\\nm\\nINDIANAPOLIS\\nTHE BOWEN-MERRILL COMPANY\\nPUBLISHERS", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0015.jp2"}, "16": {"fulltext": "Library of Cotigre^a\\nTwo Copies ^ECtiVED\\nNOV 14 1900\\nCopyria;ht oi .try\\nSECONO COPY\\nDei vKcd to\\nOROtti DIVISION\\nNOV 16 1900\\n75A70 4-\\n^oo\\nCopyright 1900\\nBY JAMES WHITCOMB RiLEY\\nBraunworth, Munn Barber\\nPrinters and Binders\\nBrooklyn, N. Y.", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0016.jp2"}, "17": {"fulltext": "TO\\nMYRON W. REED\\nIn this business I knew that I had the\\nworld, the planets, and the myriad stars for\\nmy companions, and we were all journeying\\nalong together fulfilling the same divine order.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u0094Joel Chandler Harris.", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0017.jp2"}, "18": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0018.jp2"}, "19": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS\\nProem page\\nAs Created 18\\nAt Crown Hill 157\\nAt His Wintry Tent 109\\nAt Sea 136\\nBallad with a Serious Conclusion, A 102\\nBallade oe the Coming Rain, The 70\\nBed, The 159\\nCassander 95\\nChrist, The 66\\nChristmas Along the Wires 19\\nEdge of the Wind, The 138\\nEmerson 53\\nEnduring, The 152\\nEquity\u00e2\u0080\u0094? 119\\nEugene Field 101\\nFeel in the Christmas-Air, A 81\\nFrom Delphi to Camden 73\\nGreen Grass of Old Ireland, The 107\\nHenry W. Grady 38\\nHired Man s Faith in Children, The 154\\nHis Love of Home 42", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0019.jp2"}, "20": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS\\nPAGE\\nHome Ag in 43\\nHome-Folks 1\\nHome-Voyage, The 13\\nHymn Exultant 61\\nIdiot, An 150\\nIn the Evening 122\\nLet Something Good Be Said 33\\nLincoln 57\\nLoving Cup, The 87\\nMister Hop-Toad 8\\nMoonshiner s Serenade 124\\nMother Sainted, The 65\\nMr. Foley s Christmas 133\\nMy Dan cin -Days is Over 34\\nName oe Old Glory, The 4\\nNaturalist, The 155\\nNoblest Service, The 147\\nOld Guitar, The 148\\nO Life O Beyond 39\\nOn a Fly-Leae 83\\nOn a Youthful Portrait oe Stevenson 70\\nOne With a Song 131\\nOnward Trail, The 55\\nOscar O. McCulloch 86\\nOur Boyhood Haunts 11\\nOur Queer Old World 110\\nPeace-Hymn oe the Republic, A 129", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0020.jp2"}, "21": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS\\nPAGE\\nRed Riding Hood 64\\nRhymes oe Ironquill 115\\nSay Something to Me 89\\n^ermon op the Rose, The 84\\nShort nin Bread Song, A 92\\nSilent Singer, The 126\\nSmitten Purist, The 120\\nSong of the Road, A 62\\nThem Old Cheery Words 163\\nTo Robert Louis Stevenson 68\\nTo THE Judge 78\\nTo Uncle Remus 67\\nTraveling Man, The 71\\nUncle Sidney s Logic 16\\nUnheard, The 113\\nWhat the Wind Said 139\\nWhittier 54\\nWholly Unscholastic Opinion, A 91\\nYour Height is Ours 59", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0021.jp2"}, "22": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0022.jp2"}, "23": {"fulltext": "HOME-FOLKS", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0023.jp2"}, "24": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0024.jp2"}, "25": {"fulltext": "PROEM\\nTou Home- Folks Aid your grateful guest\\nBear with his pondering^ wandering ways\\nWhen idlest he is busiest^\\nBeing a dreamer of the days.\\nHumor his silent^ absent moods\\nHis restless quests along the shores\\nOf the old creek^ wound through the woods\\nThe haws, pawpaws and sycamores\\nThe side-path hom^e the back-way past\\nThe old pump and the dipper there\\nThe afternoon of dreamy fune\\nThe old porch, and the rocking-chair.\\nTea, bear with him. a little space\\nHis heart must smoulder on a while\\nEre yet it flames out in his face\\nA wholly tearless smile.", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0025.jp2"}, "26": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0026.jp2"}, "27": {"fulltext": "HOME-FOLKS\\nHome-Folks! Well, that-air name, to me,\\nSounds jis the same as foetry\\nThat is, ef poetry is jis\\nAs sweet as I ve hearn tell it is!\\nHome-Folks they re jis the same as kin\\nAll brung up, same as vje have bin,\\nWithout no overpowerin sense\\nOf their oncommon consequence\\nThey ve bin to school, but not to git\\nThe habit fastened on em yit\\nSo as to ever interfere\\nWith other work at s waitin here:\\nHome-Folks has crops to plant and plow,\\nEr lives in town and keeps a cov*^\\nBut whether country-jakes er town-,\\nThey know when eggs is up er dowi I\\nI", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0027.jp2"}, "28": {"fulltext": "HOME-FOLKS\\nLa can t you sfot em when you meet\\nEm anywheres in field er street?\\nAnd can t you see their faces, bright\\nAs circus-day, heave into sight?\\nAnd can t you hear their Howdy! clear\\nAs a brook s chuckle to the ear,\\nAnd alius find their laughin eyes\\nAs fresh and clear as morning skies\\nAnd can t you when they ve gone away\\nJis feel em shakin hands, all day?\\nAnd feel, too, you ve bin higher raised\\nBy sich a meetin God be praised\\nOh, Home-Folks! you re the best of all\\nAt ranges this terestchul ball,\\nBut, north er south, er east er west.\\nIt s home is where you re at your best.\\n2", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0028.jp2"}, "29": {"fulltext": "HOME-FOLKS\\nIt s home it s home your faces shine,\\nIn-nunder your own fig and vine\\nYour fambly and your neighbers bout\\nYe, and the latchstring hangin out.\\nHome-Folks at home^ I know o one\\nOld feller now at haint got none.\\nInvite him he may hold back some\\nBut you invite him, and he ll come.", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0029.jp2"}, "30": {"fulltext": "THE NAME OF OLD GLORY\\nOld Glory! say, who,\\nBy the ships and the crew.\\nAnd the long, blended ranks of the gray and the\\nblue,\\nWho gave you, Old Glory, the name that you bear\\nWith such pride everywhere\\nAs you cast yourself free to the rapturous air\\nAnd leap out full-length, as we re wanting you\\nto?\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nWho gave you that name, with the ring of the\\nsame.\\nAnd the honor and fame so becoming to you\\nYour stripes stroked in ripples of white and of red,\\nWith your stars at their glittering best overhead\\nBy day or by night\\nTheir delightfulest light\\n4", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0030.jp2"}, "31": {"fulltext": "THE NAME OF OLD GLORY\\nLaughing down from their little square heaven of\\nblue!\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nWho gave you the name of Old Glory? say,\\nwho\\nWho gave you the name of Old Glory?\\nThe old banner lifted^ and falter htg then\\nIn vague lisps and whispers fell silent again.\\nII\\nOld Glory, Speak out! we are asking about\\nHow you happened to favor a name, so to say,\\nThat sounds so familiar and careless and gay\\nAs we cheer it and shout in our wild breezy way\\nWe the crowds every man of us, calling you that\\nWe Tom, Dick and Harry each swinging his hat\\nAnd hurrahing Old Glory! like you were our\\nkin.\\nWhen Lord! we all know we re as common as\\nsin!\\nAnd yet it just seems like you humor us all\\nAnd waft us your thanks, as we hail you and fall\\nInto line, with you over us, waving us on\\nWhere our glorified, sanctified betters have gone.\\n5", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0031.jp2"}, "32": {"fulltext": "THE NAME OF OLD GLORY\\nAnd this is the reason we re wanting to know\\n(And we re wanting it so\\nWhere our own fathers went we are willing to\\ngo-)\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nWho gave you the name of Old Glory O-ho!\\nWho gave you the name of Old Glory?\\nThe old flag unfurled with a billowy thrill\\nFor an instant^ then wistfully sighed and was\\nstill.\\nIll\\nOld Glory: the story we re wanting to hear\\nIs what the plain facts of your christening were,\\nFor your name-**-just to hear it,\\nRepeat it, and cheer it, s a tang to the spirit\\nAs salt as a tear;\\nAnd seeing you fly, and the boys marching by,\\nThere s a shout in the throat and a blur in the eye\\nAnd an aching to live for you always or die,\\nIf, dying, we still keep you waving on high.\\nAnd so, by our love\\nFor you, floating above,\\n6", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0032.jp2"}, "33": {"fulltext": "THE NAME OF OLD GLORY\\nAnd the scars of all wars and the sorrows thereof,\\nWho gave you the name of Old Glory, and why\\nAre we thrilled at the name of Old Glory?\\nThe7i the old banner leaped^ like a sail in the blasts\\nAnd fluttered an audible answer at last,\\nIV\\nAnd it spake, with a shake of the voice, and it\\nsaid:\\nBy the driven snow-white and the living blood-red\\nOf my bars, and their heaven of stars overhead\\nBy the symbol conjoined of them all, skyward cast.\\nAs I float from the steeple, or flap at the mast.\\nOr droop o er the sod where the long grasses nod,\\nMy name is as old as the glory of God.\\nSo I came by the name of Old Glory.", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0033.jp2"}, "34": {"fulltext": "MISTER HOP-TOAD\\nHowdy, Mister Hop-Toad! Glad to see you out!\\nBin a month o Sund ys sencel seen you hereabout.\\nKind o bin a-layin in, from the frost and snow?\\nGood to see you out ag in, it s bin so long ago!\\nPlows like slicin cheese, and sod s loppin over\\neven\\nLoam s like gingerbread, and clods s softer n de-\\nceivin\\nMister Hop-Toad, honest-true Springtime\\ndon t you love it?\\nYou old rusty rascal you, at the bottom of it!\\nOh, oh, oh!\\nI grabs up my old hoe\\nBut I sees you,\\nAnd s I, Ooh-ooh!\\nHowdy, Mister Hop-Toad! How-dee-do!\\n8", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0034.jp2"}, "35": {"fulltext": "MISTER HOP-TOAD\\nMake yourse f more comfo bler square round at\\nyour ease\\nDon t set saggin slanchwise, with your nose below\\nyour knees.\\nSwell that fat old throat o yourn and lemme see\\nyou swaller;\\nStraighten up and h ist your head! Tou don t\\nowe a dollar!\\nHain t no mor gage on your land ner no taxes,\\nnuther\\nTou don t haf to work no roads, even ef you d\\nruther.\\nF I was you, 2iVi^Jixed like you, I railly wouldn t\\nkeer\\nTo swop fer life and hop right in the presidential\\ncheer\\nOh, oh, oh!\\nI hauls back my old hoe\\nBut I sees you^\\nAnd s I, Ooh-ooh!\\nHowdy, Mister Hop-Toad How-dee-do!\\n9", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0035.jp2"}, "36": {"fulltext": "MISTER HOP-TOAD\\nLong about next Aprile, hoppin down the furry,\\nWon t you mind I ast you what peared to be the\\nhurry\\nWon t you mind I hooked my hoe and hauled you\\nback and smiled?\\nW y, bless you, Mister Hop-Toad, I love you like\\na child!\\nS pose I d want to flict you any more n what you\\nair?\\nS pose I think you got no rights cept the warts\\nyou wear?\\nHulk, sulk, and blink away, you old bloat-eyed\\nrowdy\\nHain t you got a word to say? Won t you tell\\nme Howdy\\nOh, oh, oh!\\nI swish round my old hoe\\nBut I sees you,\\nAnd s I, Ooh-ooh!\\nHowdy, Mister Hop-Toad How-dee-do\\nID", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0036.jp2"}, "37": {"fulltext": "OUR BOYHOOD HAUNTS\\nHo I m going back to where\\nWe were youngsters. Meet me there,\\nDear old barefoot chum, and we\\nWill be as we used to be,\\nLawless rangers up and down\\nThe old creek beyond the town\\nLittle sunburnt gods at play,\\nJust as in that far-away:\\nWater nymphs, all unafraid,\\nShall smile at us from the brink\\nOf the old millrace and wade\\nTow rd us as we kneeling drink\\nAt the spring our boyhood knew,\\nPure and clear as morning-dew:\\nAnd, as we are rising there.\\nDoubly dow rd to hear and see,\\nWe shall thus be made aware\\nOf an eerie piping, heard\\nHigh above the happy bird\\nII", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0037.jp2"}, "38": {"fulltext": "pUR BOYHOOD HAUNTS\\nIn the hazel And then we,\\nJust across the creek, shall see\\n(Hah the goaty rascal Pan\\nHoof it o er the sloping green,\\nMad with his own melody,\\nAye, and (bless the beasty man!)\\nStamping from the grassy soil\\nBruised scents oijieur-de-lis^\\nBoneset, mint and pennyroyal.\\n12", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0038.jp2"}, "39": {"fulltext": "THE HOME-VOYAGE\\nGENERAL HENRY W. LAWTON- FELL AT SAN\\nMATEO, DEC. I9, 1 899. IN STATE, IN-\\nDIANAPOLIS, FEB. 6, 1900.\\nBear with us, O Great Captain, if our pride\\nShow equal measure with our grief s excess\\nIn greeting you in this your helplessness\\nTo countermand our vanity or hide\\nYour stern displeasure that we thus had tried\\nTo praise you, knowing praise was your distress:\\nBut this homecoming swells our hearts no less\\nBecause for love of home you proudly died.\\nLo then, the cable, fathoms neath the keel\\nThat shapes your course, is eloquent of you\\nThe old flag, too, at half-mast overhead\\nWe doubt not that its gale-kissed ripples feel\\nA prouder sense of red and white and blue,\\nThe stars\u00e2\u0080\u0094 Ah, God, were they interpreted!\\n13", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0039.jp2"}, "40": {"fulltext": "THE HOME-VOYAGE\\nIn Strange lands were your latest honors won\\nIn strange wilds, with strange dangers all beset\\nWith rain, like tears, the face of day was wet,\\nAs rang the ambushed foeman s fateful gun:\\nAnd as you felt your final duty done.\\nWe feel that glory thrills your spirit yet,\\nWhen at the front, in swiftest death, you met\\nThe patriot s doom and best reward in one.\\nAnd so the tumult of that island war,\\nAt last, for you, is stilled forevermore\\nIts scenes of blood blend white as ocean foam\\nOn your rapt vision as you sight afar\\nThe sails of peace, and from that alien shore\\nThe proud ship bears you on your voyage home.\\nOr rough or smooth the wave, or lowering day\\nOr starlit sky you hold, by native right,\\nYour high tranquillity the silent might\\nOf the true hero so you led the way\\nTo victory through stormiest battle-fray,\\nBecause your followers, high above the fight,\\nHeard your soul s lightest whisper bid them smite\\nFor God and man and space to kneel and pray.", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0040.jp2"}, "41": {"fulltext": "THE HOME-VOYAGE\\nAnd thus you cross the seas unto your own\\nBeloved land, convoyed with honors meet,\\nSaluted as your home s first heritage\\nNor salutation from your State alone.\\nBut all the States, gathered in mighty fleet,\\nDip colors as you move to anchorage.\\n15", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0041.jp2"}, "42": {"fulltext": "UNCLE SIDNEY S LOGIC\\nPa wunst he scold an says to me,\\nDon t 7y so much, but try-\\nTo study more, and nen you ll be\\nA great man, by an by.\\nNen Uncle Sidney says, You let\\nHim be a boy an play.\\nThe greatest man on earth, I bet,\\nUd trade with him today!\\ni6", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0042.jp2"}, "43": {"fulltext": "CHRISTMAS ALONG THE WIRES", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0043.jp2"}, "44": {"fulltext": "AS CREATED\\nThere* s a space for good to bloo7Ji ht\\nEvery heart of man or woman^\\nAnd however wild or hujnan^\\nOr however brhn^ned with gall^\\nNever heart may beat without it;\\nAnd the darkest heart to doubt it\\nHas something good about it\\nAfter all.", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0044.jp2"}, "45": {"fulltext": "CHRISTMAS ALONG THE WIRES\\nScene Hoosier R. R. station^ Washout Glen,\\nNight Interior of Telegraph Office Single\\noperator s table in some disorder lunch-bas-\\nket^ litter of books and sheet-music a flute and\\na guitar Rather good-looking young man^ evi-\\ndently in charge^ talking to cofnmercial traveler\\n/^iVCZ70iV-Station-\u00e2\u0080\u0094 Pilot Knob\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nSay the operator there\\nIs a girl with auburn hair\\nAnd blue eyes, and purty, too,\\nAs they make em That ll do!\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nThey all know her long the Line\\nRailroad men, from President\\nOf the road to section-hand!\\nAnd she knows us the whole mob\\n19", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0045.jp2"}, "46": {"fulltext": "CHRISTMAS ALONG THE WIRES\\nOf US lightnin^ -sling ers Shoo!\\nBrownie^ s got us all down fine\\nThough she s business^ understand,\\nBrownie she just beats the band\\nBrownie she s held up that job\\nFive or six years anyhow\\nSince her father^ s death, when all\\nThe whole road decided now\\nWas no time for nothin small,\\nIt was Brownie^ s job Since ten\\nYears of age she d been with him\\nIn the office. Now, I guess,\\nShe was sixteen, more or less\\nJust a girl, but strong and trim,\\nAnd as independent, too.\\nAnd reliable clean through\\nAs the old man when he died\\nTwo mile up the track beside\\nHis red-light, one icy night\\nWhen the line broke down and yet\\nHe got there in time, you bet,\\nTo shut off a wreck all right\\n20", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0048.jp2"}, "47": {"fulltext": "CHRISTMAS ALONG THE WIRES\\nYes, so77ie life here, and romance\\nPilot Knob, though, and Roachdale,\\nAnd this little eight-by-ten\\nDinky town of Washout Glen\\nHave to pool inhabitants\\nEven for enough young men\\nTo fill out a country dance,\\nAll chip in on some joint-date,\\nAnd whack up and pony down\\nAnd combine and celebrate,\\nSay, on Decoration Day\\nFourth o July Easter, or\\nCircus-Day, or Christmas^ say\\nAll th7 ee towns, and right-o -way\\nFor two extrys, one from here\\nOne down from the Knob. Well, then\\nRoachdale is herself again\\nLike last Christmas, when all three\\nTowns collogued, and far and near\\nBilled things for a Christmas-tree\\nAt old Roachdale. Now mark here:\\n21", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0049.jp2"}, "48": {"fulltext": "CHRISTMAS ALONG THE WIRES\\nI had leave, last Holidays,\\nAnd was goin home, you see,\\nTwo weeks and the Company\\nSent a man to fill my place\\nAn old chum of mine, in fact,\\nI d been coaxin to arrange\\nJust to have his dressin -case\\nAnd his latest music packed\\nAnd come on here for a change.\\nHe d been here to visit me\\nOnce before in summer then,\\nCome to stay just two or three\\nDays, he said- and he staid ten.\\nWhen he left here then Well, he\\nWas clean gone on Brownie wild\\nAnd plum silly as a child\\nName MacClintock. Most young men\\nStood way back when Mac was round.\\nFact is, he was Jine^ you know\\nSilver-tenor voice that went\\nUp among the stars, and sent\\nThe girls back to higher-tone\\nDreams than they had ever known\\nA good-looker stylish slim\\n22", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0050.jp2"}, "49": {"fulltext": "CHRISTMAS ALONG THE WIRES\\nAnd wore clothes that no man downed\\nYes, and smoked a good cigar\\nAnd smelt right and used to blow\\nA smooth flute And a guitar\\nNo man heard till he heard him I\\nSay, some midnight serenade\\nOomkf how drippin -sweet he played I\\nBoys^ though, wasn t stuck on Mac\\nSo blame much, especially\\nRoachdale operator. He\\nKind o had the inside-track\\nOn all of us, as to who\\nGot most talk from Brownie, when\\nShe had nothin else to do\\nBut to buzz us now and then\\nUp and down the wires, you know\\nAnd we d jolly back again\\nBout some dance and Would she go\\nWith us or her Roachdale beau?\\n(Boys all called him Roachy see?)-\\nWire her, Was she Happy now?\\nAnd How s Roachy, anyhow?\\nOr, Say, Brownie, who s the jay\\nYou was stringin yesterday?\\n23", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0051.jp2"}, "50": {"fulltext": "CHRISTMAS ALONG THE WIRES\\nAnd I ve sat here when this key-\\nShot me like a battery,\\nJust cause Brownie wired to say\\nThat That box o fruit, or flowers,\\nThat I d sent her came O K,\\nTo beguile the weaiy hours\\nTill we met again! Then break\\nShort off for the Roachdale cuss\\nCallin her, and onto us.\\nCourse he^ d sent em no mistake!\\nLord^ she kej^t that man awake I\\nYet he kept her fooled His cheek\\nAnd pure goody-goody gall\\nHid from hei if not from all\\nA quite vivid \u00e2\u0080\u00a2yellow streak.^^\\nAwful jealous, don t you see?\\nFelt he had a right to be,\\nMaybe, bein engaged. An^ they\\nWere engaged\u00e2\u0080\u0094 that s straight. G A!\\nWell MacClintock when he come\\nDown from York to take this job,\\nAnd stopped off at Pilot Knob\\n\u00e2\u0099\u00a6Telegraphers abbreviation for Go ahead.\\n24", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0052.jp2"}, "51": {"fulltext": "CHRISTMAS ALONG THE WIRES\\nFor \u00e2\u0080\u00a2Hnstructions^^ there was some\\nIndications of unrest\\nAt Roachdale right from the start,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nRoachy wasn t aw fur smart,\\nMaybe, but he done his best\\nWith such brains as he possessed,\\nAnyway he made one play\\nThat was brilliant of its kind\\nAnd 7naintained it From the day\\nThat MacClintock took my key\\nAnd I left on No. 3,\\nRoachy opened up on Mac\\nAnd just loved him! purred and v/hined\\nCross the wires how tickled he\\nWas to hear that Mac was back,\\nAnd how glad the girls would be\\nAnd the young-folks everywhere,\\nAs he d reason to believe,\\nAnd how, even then^ they were\\nShapin things at old, Roachdale\\nFor a blow-out, Christmas-eve,\\nThat would turn all others pale!\\nFirst a Christmas-Tree^ at old\\n25", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0053.jp2"}, "52": {"fulltext": "CHRISTMAS ALONG THE WIRES\\nArmory Hall, and then the floor\\nCleared, and\\nCome in out the cold!\\nBreaks MacClintock Don t I know?-\\nDancin say, from ten till four\\nMaybe daylight fore we go!\\nWith Ben Custer s Band to pour\\nMusic out in swirlin rills\\nAnd back-tides o waltz-quadrilles\\nLevel with the window-sills!\\nRoachy, you re a bird I But, say,\\nHow am I to get away\\nFrom the office here?\\nWell, then\\nRoachy wires him back again:\\nThat s O K,\u00e2\u0080\u0094 I call a man\\nUp from Dunkirk; got it all\\nFixed. So Christmas-eve, you can\\nCollar the seven-thirty train\\nFor Roachdale the same that he\\nComes on. Leave your office-key\\nIn the door: he ll do the rest.\\nThen old Roachy rattled through\\nA long list of who d be there,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\n26", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0054.jp2"}, "53": {"fulltext": "CHRISTMAS ALONG THE WIRES\\nBoys and girls that Mac knew best\\nOne name, though, that had no bare\\nLittle mention anywhere!\\nThen he shut off, as he said,\\nFor his supper About ten\\nMinutes Mac was called agaiii\\nWith a click that flushed him red\\nAs the signal-flag and then\\nCame like music in the air\\nYes, and Brownie will be there!\\nFolks tell me, that Christmas-Tree,\\nDance and whole blame jamboree,\\nLooked like it was goin to be\\nA blood- curdlin tragedy.\\nPeople long the roads, you know\\nWell, they ve had experience\\nWith all sorts of accidents,\\nAnd they ve learnt so77ie things, and so\\nWhen an accident or wreck\\nHappens, they know some ?na7t s break\\nIs responsible, and hence\\nWell they want to break his neck!\\n27", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0055.jp2"}, "54": {"fulltext": "CHRISTMAS ALONG THE WIRES\\nSo it happened, Christmas-eve,\\nAt Roachdale^ MacClintock there\\nCocked back in the barber-chair\\nAt eight-forty, and no train\\nDown yet from the Knob, and it\\nDue at eight-ten sharp. The strain\\nWas a-showin quite a bit\\nOn the general crowd and when\\nPurty soon the rumor spread\\nWreck had probably occurred\\nSomeone said somebody said\\nThat he d heard somebody say,\\nOperator at the Glen\\nWas to blame for the delay\\nFact is, he had run away\\nFrom his ofKce Even then\\nWas in Roachdale there to be\\nPresent at the Christmas-Tree\\nAnd the shindig afterward,\\nWreck or no wreck! Mac sat up.\\nWhiter than the shavin -cup.\\nBack of his face in the glass\\nHe stared into he could see\\n28", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0056.jp2"}, "55": {"fulltext": "CHRISTMAS ALONG THE WIRES\\nA big crowd there and, alas!\\nNot in all that threatening throng\\nOne friend s face of sympathy\\nOne friend knowin right from wrong!\\nHe got on his feet erect\\nNervy faced the crowd, and then\\nSaid: /am MacClintock from\\nThe Glen-office, and I ve come\\nTo your Christmas festival\\nBy request of one that all\\nOf you honor, gentlemen,\\nYour most trusted citizen\\nYour own operator here\\nAt the station-office where\\nHe ll acquit 7ne of neglect.\\nAnd will make it plain and clear\\nWho the sub. is he sent there\\nTo my office at the Glen\\nOr, if not one there, who then\\nIs indeed the criminal?\\nI am going now to call\\nOn him. Join me, gentlemen.\\n29", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0057.jp2"}, "56": {"fulltext": "CHRISTMAS ALONG THE WIRES\\nI insist you come with me.\\nWell, a sense of some respect\\nCaught em, and they followed, all,\\nSilently, though sullenly.\\nFortunately, half a square\\nBrought em to the station and\\nThe crowd there that packed the small\\nWaiting-room on every hand.\\nWith a kind o general stand\\nRound the half-door window through\\nWhich old Roachy, in full view.\\nSat there, smilin in a sick\\nSort o way, yet gloryin too,\\nIn the work he had to do.\\nMac worked closer, breathin quick\\nAt the muttered talk of some\\nOf the toughest of the crowd\\nTill, above the growl and hum\\nOf the ominou-s voices, he\\nHeard the click of Roachy s key,\\nAnd his heart beat most out loud\\nAs he heard him wirin Yes,\\n30", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0058.jp2"}, "57": {"fulltext": "CHRISTMAS ALONG THE WIRES\\nTrouble down at Glen^ I guess.\\nGlen s fool-operator here\\nWhat s-his-name M acClintock. Fear\\nMob will hang him. -Mob knows he\\nLeft his office. And no doubt\\nWreck there on account of it.\\nPeople worked-up here and shout\\nNow and then to Take him out!\\nHang him and so forth. Mac lit\\nThrough the half-door window at\\nRoachy s table like a cat:\\nHe was white^ but ^Roachy^s face\\nMade a brunette out o Ms\\\\\\nMac had pinned him in his chair\\nHelpless and a message there\\nClickin back from Pilot Knob.\\nTell these people, word for word,\\nMac says, what this message is!\\nTell an. Hear me P Roachy heard\\nAnd obeyed: We sized your job\\nOn MacClintock. Knob here sent\\nA sub. there. And all O K\\nAt Glen office. Tie-up here\\nOne hour s wait all fault of mine.\\n31", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0059.jp2"}, "58": {"fulltext": "CHRISTMAS ALONG THE WIRES\\nHang MacClintock, did you say?\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2Hang MacClintock Certainly,\\nHang him on the Christmas-Tree,\\nWith a label on for tne^\\nI ll be there on Number Nine.\\n32", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0060.jp2"}, "59": {"fulltext": "LET SOMETHING GOOD BE SAID\\nWhen over the fair fame of friend or foe\\nThe shadow of disgrace shall fall instead\\nOf words of blame, or proof of thus and so,\\nLet something good be said.\\nForget not that no fellow-being yet\\nMay fall so low but love may lift his head\\nEven the cheek of shame with tears is wet.\\nIf something good be said.\\nNo generous heart may vainly turn aside\\nIn ways of sympathy no soul so dead\\nBut may awaken strong and glorified,\\nIf something good be said.\\nAnd so I charge ye, by the thorny crown,\\nAnd by the cross on which the Savior bled,\\nAnd by your own souls hope of fair renown,\\nLet something good be said\\n3 33", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0061.jp2"}, "60": {"fulltext": "MY DANCIN -DAYS IS OVER\\nWhat is it in old fiddle-chunes at makes me ketch\\nmy breath\\nAnd ripples up my backbone tel I m tickled most\\nto death\\nKindo like that sweet-sick feelin in the long\\nsweep of a swing,\\nThe first you ever swung in, with yer first sweet-\\nheart, i jing!\\nYer first picnic-\u00e2\u0080\u0094 yer first ice-cream ^yer first o\\neverything\\nAt happened fore yer dancin -days wuz over\\nI never understood it and I s pose I never can,\\nBut right in town here, yisterd y, I heerd a pore\\nblind-man\\nA-fiddlin old Gray Eagle ^;^^-sir! I jes\\nstopped my load\\nO hay and listened at him yes, and watched the\\nw^ay he bow d,\\n34", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0062.jp2"}, "61": {"fulltext": "MY DANCIN -DAYS IS OVER\\nAnd back I went, plum forty year with boys\\nand girls I knowed\\nAnd loved, long fore my dancin -days wuz\\nover!\\nAt high noon in yer city, with yer blame Mag-\\nnetic-Cars\\nA-hummin and a-screetchin past and bands and\\nG. A. R. s\\nA-marchin and fire-ingines. All the noise,\\nthe whole street through,\\nWuz lost on me! I only heerd a whipperwill\\ner two,\\nIt peared-like, kindo callin crostthe darkness\\nand the dew.\\nThem nights afore my dancin -days wuz over.\\nT uz Chused y-night at Wetherell s, er We nsd y-\\nnight at Strawn s,\\nEr Fourth-o -July-night at uther Tomps s house\\ner John s!\\n35", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0063.jp2"}, "62": {"fulltext": "MY DANCIN -DAYS IS OVER\\nWith old Lew Church from Sugar Crick, with\\nthat old fiddle he\\nHad sawed clean through the Army, from At-\\nlanty to the sea\\nAnd yit he d fetched her home ag in, so s he\\ncould play fer me\\nOnc t more afore my dancin -days wuz over!\\nThe woods at s all ben cut away wuz growin\\nsame as then\\nThe youngsters all wuz boys ag in at s now all\\noldish men\\nAnd all the girls at then wuz girls I saw em,\\none and all,\\nAs ^lain as then the middle-sized, the short-\\nand-fat, and tall\\nAnd, peared-like, I danced Tucker fer em\\nup and down the wall\\nJes like afore my dancin -days wuz over!\\n36", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0064.jp2"}, "63": {"fulltext": "MY DANCIN -DAYS IS OVER\\nYer J)0-leece they can holler Say! you, Uncle!\\ndrive ahead\\nYou can t use all the right-o -way fer that wuz\\nwhat they said!\\nBut, jes the same, in spite of all at you call\\ninterprise\\nAnd prog-gress of yoz^-iolks Today, we re all\\nof fom bly-ties\\nWe re all got feelin s fittin fer the tears at s in\\nour eyes\\nEr the smiles afore our dancin -days is over.\\n37", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0065.jp2"}, "64": {"fulltext": "HENRY W. GRADY\\nATLANTA, DEC. 23, I\\nTrue-hearted friend of all true friendliness\\nBrother of all true brotherhoods! Thy hand\\nAnd its late pressure now we understand\\nMost fully, as it falls thus gestureless\\nAnd Silence lulls thee into sweet excess\\nOf sleep. Sleep thou content! Thy loved\\nSouthland\\nIs swept with tears, as rain in sunshine and\\nThrough all the frozen North our eyes confess\\nLike sorrow seeing still the princely sign\\nSet on thy lifted brow, and the rapt light\\nOf the dark, tender, melancholy eyes\\nThrilled with the music of those lips of thine,\\nAnd yet the fire thereof that lights the night\\nWith the white splendor of thy prophecies.\\n38", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0066.jp2"}, "65": {"fulltext": "0 LIFE! O BEYOND!\\nStrange strange, O mortal Life,\\nThe perverse gifts that came to me from you\\nFrom childhood I have v^anted all good things\\nYou gave me few.\\nYou gave me faith in One\\nDivine above your own imperious might,\\nmortal Life, while I but wanted you\\nAnd your delight.\\n1 wanted dancing feet,\\nAnd flowery, grassy paths by laughing streams\\nYou gave me loitering steps, and eyes all blurred\\nWith tears and dreams.\\nI wanted love, and, lo\\nAs though in mockery, you gave me loss.\\nO erburdened sore, I wanted rest: you gave\\nThe heavier cross.\\n39", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0067.jp2"}, "66": {"fulltext": "*o life! o beyond!\\nI wanted one poor hut\\nFor mine own home, to creep away into:\\nYou gave me only lonelier desert lands\\nTo journey through.\\nNow, at the last vast verge\\nOf barren age, I stumble, reel, and fling\\nMe down, with strength all spent and heart athirst\\nAnd famishing.\\nYea, now, Life, deal me death,\\nYour worst your vaunted worst Across\\nmy breast\\nWith numb and fumbling hands I gird me for\\nThe best.\\n40", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0068.jp2"}, "67": {"fulltext": "HOME AG IN", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0069.jp2"}, "68": {"fulltext": "HIS LOVE OF HOME\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2As love of native land^^^ the old Tnan said,\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0Er stars and stripes a-wavin overhead,\\nEr nearest kith-and-kin, er daily bread,\\nA Hoosier s love is fer the old homestead,^", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0070.jp2"}, "69": {"fulltext": "HOME AG IN\\nI m a-feelin ruther sad,\\nFer a father proud and glad\\nAs am my only child\\nHome, and all so rickonciled!\\nFeel so strange-like, and don t know\\nWhat the mischief ails me so\\nStid o bad, I ort to be\\nFeelin good pertickerly\\nYes, and extry thankful, too,\\nCause my nearest kith and kin\\nMy Elviry s schoolin s through,\\nAnd F got her home ag in\\nHome ag in with me\\nSame as ef her mother d been\\nLivin I have done my best\\nBy the girl, and watchfulest;\\n43", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0071.jp2"}, "70": {"fulltext": "home AG in\\nNussed her keerful as I could\\nFrom a baby, day and night,\\nDrawin on the neighberhood\\nAnd the women-folks as light\\nAs needsessity u d low\\nCept in teethin onc t, and fight\\nThrough black-measles. Don t know now\\nHow we ever saved the child\\nDoc he d give her up, and said,\\nAs I stood there by the bed\\nSort o foolin with her hair\\nOn the hot, wet pillar there,\\nWuz no use! And at them-air\\nVery words she waked and smiled\\nYes, and knozued me. And that s where\\nI broke down, and simply jes\\nBellered like a boy I guess!\\nWomen claimed I did, but I\\nAlius belt I didn t cry\\nBut wuz laughin and I wuz^\\nMen don t cry like women does\\nWell, right then and there I felt\\nT uz her mother s doin s, and,\\nJes like to myse f, I knelt\\n44", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0072.jp2"}, "71": {"fulltext": "home ag in\\nWhisperin, I understand.\\nSo I ve raised her, you might say,\\nStric ly in the narrer way\\nAt her mother walked therein\\nNot so quite religiously,\\nYit still strivin -like to do\\nEver thing a father could\\nDo he knowed the tnother would\\nEf she d lived And now all s through\\nAnd I got .her home ag in\\nHome ag in with me\\nAnd I been so lonesome, too.\\nHere o late, especially,\\nOld Aunt Abigail, you know,\\nAin t no company and so\\nJes the hired hand, you see\\nJonas like a relative\\nMore sence he come here to live\\nWith us, nigh ten year ago.\\nStill he don t count much, you know,\\n45", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0073.jp2"}, "72": {"fulltext": "HOME AG IN\\nIn the way o company\\nLonesome, peared-like, most as me!\\nSo, as /say, I been so\\nSpecial lonesome-like and blue,\\nWith Elviry, like she s been,\\nWay so much, last two or three\\nYear But now she s home ag in\\nHome ag in with me\\nDriv in fer her yisterday,\\nMe and Jonas gay and spry,\\nWe jes cut up, all the way!\\nYes, and sung! tell, blame it! I\\nKeyed my voice up bout as high\\nAs when days at I wuz young\\nBuckwheat-notes wuz all they sung.\\nJonas bantered me, and greed\\nTo sing one at town- folks sing\\nDown at Split Stump er High-Low\\nSome new ballet, said, at he d\\nLearnt about The Grapevine Swing.\\nAnd when he quit, /begun\\n46", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0074.jp2"}, "73": {"fulltext": "HOME AG IN\\nTo chune up my voice and run\\nThrough the what s-called scales and\\ndo-\\nSol-me-fa s I ust to know\\nThen let loose old iavortte one,\\nHunters o Kentucky V My I\\nTel I thought the boy would diet\\nAnd we both laughed Yes, and still\\nHeerd more laughin top the hill\\nFer we d missed Elviry s train,\\nAnd she d lit out crosst the fields,\\nDewdrops dancin at her heels,\\nAnd cut up old Smoots s lane\\nSo s to meet us. And there in\\nShadder o the chinkypin.\\nWith a danglin dogwood-bough\\nBloomin bove her See her now!\\nSunshine sort o flickerin down\\nAnd a kind o laughin all\\nRound her new red parasol,\\nTryin to git at her! well like\\n/jumped out and showed em how\\nYes, and jes the place to strike\\nThat-air mouth o hern as sweet\\n47", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0075.jp2"}, "74": {"fulltext": "home ag in\\nAs the blossoms breshed her brow\\nEr sweet-williams round her feet\\nWhite and blushy, too, as she\\nHowdied up to Jonas, and\\nJieuked her head, and waved her hand.\\nHey! says I, as she bounced in\\nThe spring-wagon, reachin back\\nTo give me a lift, whoop-ee!\\nI-says-ee, you re home ag in\\nHome ag in with me!\\nLord! how wild she wuz, and glad,\\nGittin home! and things she had\\nTo inquire about, and talk\\nPlowin plantin and the stock\\nNews o neighberhood and how\\nWuz the Deem-girls doin now,\\nSence that-air young chicken-hawk\\nThey was tamin soared away\\nWith their settin -hen, one day?\\n(Said she d got Mame s postal-card\\nBout it, very day at she\\n48", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0076.jp2"}, "75": {"fulltext": "HOME AG IN\\nStarted home from Bethany.)\\nHow wuz produce eggs, and lard?\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nEr wuz stores still claimin hard\\nTimes, as usual? And, says she.\\nTroubled-like, How s Deedie say?\\nSence pore child e-loped away\\nAnd got back, and goin to ply\\nFer school-license by and by--\\nAnd where s Lijy workin at?\\nAnd how s Aunt and Uncle Jake\\nHow wuz Old Maje and the cat?\\nAnd wuz Marthy s baby fat\\nAs his Humpty-Dumpty ma?\\nSweetest thing she ever saw!\\nMust run crosst and see her, too.\\nSoon as she turned in and got\\nSupper fer us smokin -hot\\nAnd the dishes all wuz through.\\nSich a supper! Wy, I set\\nThere and et, and et, and et!\\nJes et on, tel Jonas he\\nPushed his chair back, laughed, and says,\\nI could walk his log! and we\\nAll laughed then, tel Viry she\\n4 49", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0077.jp2"}, "76": {"fulltext": "HOME AG IN\\nLit the lamp and I give in!\\nRiz and kissed her: Heaven bless\\nYou! says I you re home ag in\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nSame old dimple in your chin,\\nSame vs^hite apern, I-says-ee,\\nSame sweet girl, and good to see\\nAs your mother ust to be,\\nAnd I got you home ag in\\nHome ag in with me!\\nI turns then to go on by her\\nThrough the door and see her eyes\\nBoth wuz swimmin and she tries\\nTo say somepin can t and so\\nGrabs and hugs and lets me go.\\nNoticed Aunty d made a fire\\nIn the settin -room and gone\\nBack where her p serves wuz on\\nB ilin in the kitchen. I\\nWent out on the porch and set,\\nThinkin -like. And by and by\\nHeerd Elviry, soft and low,\\n50", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0078.jp2"}, "77": {"fulltext": "HOME AG IN\\nAt the organ, kind o go\\nA mi-anderin up and down\\nWith her fingers mongst the keys\\nVacant Chair and Old Camp-Groun\\nDusk was moist-like, with a breeze\\nLazin round the locus -trees\\nHeerd the hosses champin and\\nJonas feedin and the hogs\\nYes, and katydids and frogs\\nAnd a tree-toad, som er s. Heerd\\nAlso whipperwills. My land I\\nAll so mournful ever where\\nThem out here, and her in there,\\nMost like tendin services!\\nAnyxuay, I must a jes\\nKind o drapped asleep, I guess;\\nCause when Jonas must a passed\\nMe, a-comin in, I knowed\\nNothin of it yit it seemed\\nSort o like I kind o dreamed\\nBout him, too, a-slippin in,\\nAnd a-watchin back to see\\nEf I wuz asleep, and then\\nPassin in where Viry wuz\\n51", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0079.jp2"}, "78": {"fulltext": "**HOME Ag in\\nAnd where I declare it does\\nPear to me I heerd him say,\\nWild and glad and whisperin\\nPeared-like heerd him say, says-ee,\\nAh! I got you home ag in\\nHome ag in with me!", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0080.jp2"}, "79": {"fulltext": "EMERSON\\nCONCORD, APRIL 2^, iSSz\\nWhat shall we say? In quietude,\\nWithin his home, in dreams unguessed.\\nHe lies the grief a nation would\\nEvince must be repressed.\\nNor meet Is it the loud acclaim\\nHis countrymen would raise that he\\nHas left the riches of his fame\\nThe whole world s legacy.\\nThen, prayerful, let us pause until\\nWe find, as grateful spirits can,\\nThe way most worthy to fulfill\\nThe tribute due the man.\\nThink what were best in his regard\\nWho voyaged life in such a cause:\\nOur simplest faith were best reward\\nOur silence, best applause.\\n53", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0081.jp2"}, "80": {"fulltext": "WHITTIER\u00e2\u0080\u0094 AT NEWBURYPORT\\nSEPTEMBER 7, 1 892\\nHail to thee, with all good cheer!\\nThough men say thou liest here\\nDead,\\nAnd mourn, all uncomforted.\\nBy thy faith refining mine.\\nLife still lights those eyes of thine,\\nClear\\nAs the Autumn atmosphere.\\nEver still thy smile appears\\nAs the rainbow of thy tears\\nBent\\nO er thy love s vast firmament.\\nThou endurest shalt endure,\\nPurely, as thy song is pure.\\nHear\\nThus my hail Good cheer good cheer\\n54", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0082.jp2"}, "81": {"fulltext": "THE ONWARD TRAIL\\nMYRON W. REED, DENVER, JAN. 3O, 1 899\\nJust as of old, with fearless foot\\nAnd placid face and resolute,\\nHe takes the faint, mysterious trail\\nThat leads beyond our earthly hail.\\nWe would cry, as in last farewell,\\nBut that his hand waves, and a spell\\nIs laid upon our tongues and thus\\nHe takes unworded leave of us.\\nAnd it is fitting: As he fared\\nHere with us, so is he prepared\\nFor any fortuning the night\\nMay hold for him beyond our sight.\\nThe moon and stars they still attend\\nHis wandering footsteps to the end,\\nHe did not question, nor will we,\\nTheir guidance and security.\\n55", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0083.jp2"}, "82": {"fulltext": "THE ONWARD TRAIL\\nSo, never parting word nor cry:\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nWe feel, with him, that by and by\\nOur onward trails will meet and then\\nMerge and be ever one again.\\n56", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0084.jp2"}, "83": {"fulltext": "LINCOLN\\nA PEACEFUL LIFE ^just toil and rest\\nAll his desire\\nTo read the books he liked the best\\nBeside the cabin fire\\nGod s word and man s to peer sometimes\\nAbove the page, in smouldering gleams,\\nAnd catch, like far heroic rhymes,\\nThe onm arch of his dreams.\\nA peaceful life to hear the low\\nOf pastured herds,\\nOr woodman s ax that, blow on blow.\\nFell sweet as rhythmic words.\\nAnd yet there stirred within his breast\\nA fateful pulse that, like a roll\\nOf drums, made high above his rest\\nA tumult in his soul.\\n57", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0085.jp2"}, "84": {"fulltext": "LINCOLN\\nA peaceful life They haled him even\\nAs One was haled\\nWhose open palms were nailed toward Heaven\\nWhen prayers nor aught availed.\\nAnd, lo, he paid the selfsame price\\nTo lull a nation s awful strife\\nAnd will us, through the sacrifice\\nOf self, his peaceful life.\\n58", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0086.jp2"}, "85": {"fulltext": "YOUR HEIGHT IS OURS\\nTO RICHARD HENRY STODDARD, AT THE STODDARD\\nBANQUET BY THE AUTHORS CLUB,\\nNEW YORK, MARCH 25, 1 897\\nO PRINCELY poet! kingly heir\\nOf gifts divinely sent,\\nYour own nor envy anywhere,\\nNor voice of discontent.\\nThough, of ourselves, all poor are we,\\nAnd frail and weak of wing,\\nYour height is ours your ecstasy\\nYour glory, when you sing.\\nMost favored of the gods, and great\\nIn gifts beyond our store,\\nWe covet not your rich estate,\\nBut prize our own the more.\\n59", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0087.jp2"}, "86": {"fulltext": "YOUU HEIGHT IS OURS\\nThe gods give as but gods may do\\nWe count otir riches thus,\\nThey gave their richest gifts to you,\\nAnd then gave you to us.\\n60", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0088.jp2"}, "87": {"fulltext": "HYMN EXULTANT\\nFOR EASTER\\nVoice of Mankind, sing over land and sea\\nSing, in this glorious morn!\\nThe long, long night is gone from Calvary\\nThe cross, the thong and thorn;\\nThe sealed tomb yields up its saintly guest,\\nNo longer to be burdened and oppressed.\\nHeart of Mankind, thrill answer to His own,\\nSo human, yet divine!\\nFor earthly love He left His heavenly throne\\nFor love like thine and mine\\nFor love of us, as one might kiss a bride,\\nHis lifted lips touched death s, all satisfied.\\nSoul of Mankind, He wakes He lives once more\\nO soul, with heart and voice\\nSing sing the stone rolls chorus from the door\\nOur Lord stands forth. Rejoice!\\nRejoice O garden-land of song and flowers;\\nOur King returns to us, forever ours\\n6i", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0089.jp2"}, "88": {"fulltext": "A SONG OF THE ROAD\\nO I WILL walk with you, my lad, whichever way\\nyou fare,\\nYou ll have me, too, the side o you, with heart\\nas light as air;\\nNo care for where the road you take s a-leadin\\nanywhere,\\nIt can but be a joyful jant the whilst j^t^^^ journey\\nthere.\\nThe road you take s the path o love, an that s\\nthe bridth o two\\nAnd I will walk with you, my lad O I will walk\\nwith you.\\nHo! I will walk with you, my lad,\\nBe weather black or blue\\nOr roadsides frost or dew, my lad\\nO I will walk with you.\\n63", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0090.jp2"}, "89": {"fulltext": "A SONG OF THE ROAD\\nAye, glad, my lad, I ll walk with you, whatever\\nwinds may blow,\\nOr summer blossoms stay our steps, or blinding\\ndrifts of snow\\nThe way that you set face and foot s the way that\\nI will go.\\nAnd brave I ll be, abreast o you, the Saints and\\nAngels know!\\nWith loyal hand in loyal hand, and one heart\\nmade o two.\\nThrough summer s gold, or winter s cold, it s I\\nwill walk with you.\\nSure, I will walk with you, my lad,\\nAs love ordains me to,\\nTo Heaven s door, and through, my lad,\\nO I will walk with you.\\nex", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0091.jp2"}, "90": {"fulltext": "RED RIDING HOOD\\nSweet little myth of the nursery story\\nEarliest love of mine infantile breast,\\nBe something tangible, bloom in thy glory\\nInto existence, as thou art addressed!\\nHasten! appear to me, guileless and good\\nThou art so dear to me. Red Riding Hood!\\nAzure-blue eyes, in a marvel of wonder.\\nOver the dawn of a blush breaking out\\nSensitive nose, with a little smile under\\nTrying to hide in a blossoming pout\\nCouldn t be serious, try as you would,\\nLittle mysterious Red Riding Hood\\nHah! little girl, it is desolate, lonely.\\nOut in this gloomy old forest of Life!\\nHere are not pansies and buttercups only\\nBrambles and briers as keen as a knife\\nAnd a Heart, ravenous, prowls in the wood\\nFor the meal have he must,-\u00e2\u0080\u0094 Red Riding Hood", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0092.jp2"}, "91": {"fulltext": "THE MOTHER SAINTED\\nAnd yet she does not stir,\\nSuch silence weighs on her\\nWe hear the drip\\nOf teardrops as we press\\nOur kisses answerless\\nOn brow and lip.\\nNot even the yearning touch\\nOf lips she loved so much\\nShe made their breath\\nOne with her own, will she\\nGive answer to and be\\nWooed back from death.\\nAnd though he kneel and plead\\nWho was her greatest need,\\nAnd on her cheek\\nLay the soft baby-face\\nIn its old resting-place,\\nShe will not speak.\\n65", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0093.jp2"}, "92": {"fulltext": "THE CHRIST\\nFather! (so The Word) he cried,-\\nSon of Thine, and yet denied;\\nBy my brothers dragged and tried,\\nScoffed and scourged, and crucified,\\nWith a thief on either side\\nBrothers mine, alike belied,\\nArms of mercy open wide.\\nFather! Father! So he died.\\n66", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0094.jp2"}, "93": {"fulltext": "TO UNCLE REMUS\\nWe love your dear old face and voice\\nWe re all Miss Sally s Little Boys,\\nClimbin your knee.\\nIn ecstasy,\\nRejoicin in your Creeturs joys\\nAnd trickery.\\nThe Lord who made the day and night,\\nHe made the Black man and the White\\nSo, in like view.\\nWe hold it true\\nThat He haint got no favor//^\\nOnless it s you.\\n67", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0095.jp2"}, "94": {"fulltext": "TO ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\non his first visit to america\\nRobert Louis Stevenson!\\nBlue the lift and braw the dawn\\nO ye r comin here amang\\nStrangers wha hae luved ye lang!\\nStrangers tae ye we maun be,\\nYet tae us ye re kenned a wee\\nBy the writin s ye hae done,\\nRobert Louis Stevenson.\\nSyne ye ve pit ye r pen tae sic\\nTales it stabbt us tae the quick\\nWhiles o tropic isles an seas\\nAn o gowden treesuries\\nTales o deid men s banes an tales\\nSwete as sangs o nightingales\\nWhen the nune o mirk s begun\\nRobert Louis Stevenson.\\n66", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0096.jp2"}, "95": {"fulltext": "TO ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON\\nSae we hail thee nane the less\\nFor the burr that ye caress\\nWi ye r denty tongue o Scots,\\nMakin words forget-me-nots\\nO ye r bonnie braes that were\\nSung o Burns the Poemer\\nAnd that later lavrock, one\\nRobert Louis Stevenson.\\n69", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0097.jp2"}, "96": {"fulltext": "ON A YOUTHFUL PORTRAIT OF\\nSTEVENSON\\nA FACE of youth mature a mouth of tender,\\nSad, human sympathy, yet something stoic\\nIn clasp of lip wide eyes of calmest splendor,\\nAnd brow serenely ample and heroic:\\nThe features all lit with a soul ideal\\nO visionary boy what were you seeing.\\nWhat hearing, as you stood thus midst the real\\nEre yet one master-work of yours had being?\\nIs it a foolish fancy that we humor\\nInvesting daringly with life and spirit\\nThis youthful portrait of you ere one rumor\\nOf your great future spoke that men might hear\\nit?\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nIs it a fancy, or your first of glories.\\nThat you were listening, and the camera drew\\nyou\\nHearing the voices of your untold stories\\nAnd all your lovely poems calling to you\\n70", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0098.jp2"}, "97": {"fulltext": "THE TRAVELING MAN\\nCould I pour out the nectar the gods only can,\\nI would fill up my glass to the brhn\\nAnd drink the success of the Traveling Man,\\nAnd the house represented by him\\nAnd could I but tincture the glorious draught\\nWith his smiles, as I drank to him then,\\nAnd the jokes he has told and the laughs he has\\nlaughed,\\nI would fill up the goblet again\\nAnd drink to the sweetheart who gave him good-\\nbye\\nWith a tenderness thrilling him this\\nVery hour, as he thinks of the tear in her eye\\nThat salted the sweet of her kiss\\nTo her truest of hearts and her fairest of hands\\nI would drink, with all serious prayers.\\nSince the heart she must trust is a Traveling Man s,\\nAnd as warm as the ulster he wears.\\n71", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0099.jp2"}, "98": {"fulltext": "THE TRAVELING MAN\\nII\\nI would drink to the wife, with the babe on her\\nknee,\\nWho awaits his returning in vain\\nWho breaks his brave letters so tremulously\\nAnd reads them again and again\\nAnd I d drink to the feeble old mother who sits\\nAt the warm fireside of her son\\nAnd murmurs and weeps o er the stocking she\\nknits,\\nAs she thinks of the wandering one.\\nI would drink a long life and a health to the friends\\nWho have met him with smiles and with cheer\\nTo the generous hand that the landlord extends\\nTo the wayfarer journeying here:\\nAnd I pledge, when he turns from this earthly\\nabode\\nAnd pays the last fare that he can,\\nMine Host of the Inn at the End of the Road\\nWill welcome the Traveling Man\\n72", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0100.jp2"}, "99": {"fulltext": "FROM DELPHI TO CAMDEN\\nI\\nFrom Delphi to Camden\u00e2\u0080\u0094 little Hoosier towns,\\nBut here were classic meadows, blooming dales\\nand downs\\nAnd here were grassy pastures, dewy as the leas\\nTrampled over by the trains of royal pageantries\\nAnd here the winding highway loitered through\\nthe shade\\nOf the hazel-covert, where, in ambuscade.\\nLoomed the larch and linden, and the greenwood-\\ntree\\nUnder which bold Robin Hood loud hallooed to\\nme!\\nHere the stir and riot of the busy day\\nDwindled to the quiet of the breath of May\\n73", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0101.jp2"}, "100": {"fulltext": "FROM DELPHI TO CAMDEN\\nGurgling brooks, and ridges lily-marged and\\nspanned\\nBy the rustic bridges found in Wonderland\\nII\\nFrom Delphi to Camden, from Camden back\\nagain!\\nAnd now the night was on us, and the lightning\\nand the rain\\nAnd still the way was wondrous with the flash of\\nhill and plain,\\nThe stars like printed asterisks the moon a murky\\nstain\\nAnd I thought of tragic idyl, and of flight and hot\\npursuit\\nAnd the jingle of the bridle, and cuirass, and spur\\non boot.\\nAs our horses hooves struck showers from the\\nflinty bowlders set\\nIn freshet-ways of writhing reed and drowning\\nviolet.\\n74", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0102.jp2"}, "101": {"fulltext": "FROM DELPHI TO CAMDEN\\nAnd we passed beleaguered castles, with their\\nbattlements a-frown;\\nWhere a tree fell in the forest was a turret toppled\\ndown\\nWhile my master and commander the brave\\nknight I galloped with\\nOn this reckless road to ruin or to fame was\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nDr. Smith!\\n75", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0103.jp2"}, "102": {"fulltext": "tMe ballade Of the coming rain\\nWhen the morning swoons in its highest heat,\\nAnd the sunshine dims, and no dark shade\\nStreaks the dust of the dazzling street,\\nAnd the long straw splits in the lemonade;\\nWhen the circus lags in a sad parade.\\nAnd the drum throbs dull as a pulse of pain,\\nAnd the breezeless flags hang limp and frayed\\nO then is the time to look for rain.\\nWhen the man on the watering cart bumps by.\\nTrilling the air of an old fife-tune,\\nWith a dull, soiled smile, and one shut eye,\\nLost in a dream of the afternoon\\nWhen the awning sags like a lank balloon.\\nAnd a thick sweat stands on the window-pane,\\nAnd a five-cent fan is a priceless boon\\nO then is the time to look for rain.\\n76", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0104.jp2"}, "103": {"fulltext": "THE BALLADE OF THE COMING RAIN\\nWhen the goldfish tank is a grimy gray,\\nAnd the dummy stands at the clothing store\\nWith a cap pulled on in a rakish way,\\nAnd a rubber-coat with the hind before\\nWhen the man in the barber chair flops o er\\nAnd the chin he wags has a telltale stain.\\nAnd the bootblack lurks at the open door\\nO then is the time to look for rain.\\n77", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0105.jp2"}, "104": {"fulltext": "TO THE JUDGE\\nA VOICE FROM THE INTERIOR OF OLD HOOP-POLE\\nTOWNSHIP\\nFriend of my earliest youth,\\nCan t you arrange to come down\\nAnd visit a fellow out here in the woods\\nOut of the dust of the town?\\nCan t you forget you re a Judge\\nAnd put by your dolorous frown\\nAnd tan your wan face in the smile of a friend\\nCan t you arrange to come down?\\nCan t you forget for a while\\nThe arguments prosy and drear,\\nTo lean at full-length in indefinite rest\\nIn the lap of the greenery here\\n78", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0106.jp2"}, "105": {"fulltext": "TO THE JUDGE\\nZ^an t you kick over the Bench,\\nAnd husk yourself out of your gown\\nFo dangle your legs where the fishing is good\\nCan t you arrange to come down?\\nBah for your office of State\\nAnd bah for its technical lore\\nWhat does our President, high in his chair,\\nBut wish himself low as before\\nPick between peasant and king,\\nPoke your bald head through a crown\\nDr shadow it here with the laurels of Spring\\nCan t you arrange to come down?\\nJudge it out here^ if you will,\\nThe birds are in session by dawn\\nYow can draw, not complaints^ but a sketch of the\\nhill\\nAnd a breath that your betters have drawn\\nY ou can open your heart, like a case,\\nTo a jury of kine, white and brown,\\nAnd their verdict of Moo will just satisfy you!\\nCan t you arrange to come down\\n79", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0107.jp2"}, "106": {"fulltext": "TO THE JUDGE\\nCan t you arrange it, old Pard?\\nPigeonhole Blackstone and Kent!\\nHere we have Breitmann, and Ward,\\nTwain, Burdette, Nye, and content!\\nCan t you forget you re a Judge\\nAnd put by your dolorous frown\\nAnd tan your wan face in the smile of a friend-\\nCan t you arrange to come down?\\n80", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0108.jp2"}, "107": {"fulltext": "A FEEL IN THE CHRIS MAS-AIR\\nThey s a kind o feel in the air, to me,\\nWhen the Chris mas-times sets in.\\nThat s about as much of a mystery\\nAs ever I ve run ag in\\nFer instunce, now, v^hilse I gain in weight\\nAnd gineral health, I svs^ear\\nThey s a goneness somers I can t quite state\\nA kind o feel in the air.\\nThey s a feel in the Chris mas-air goes right\\nTo the spot where a man lives at!\\nIt gives a feller a appetite\\nThey ain t no doubt about that!\\nAnd yit they s so77tefin I don t know what\\nThat follers me, here and there.\\nAnd ha nts and worries and spares me not\\nA kind o feel in the air!", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0109.jp2"}, "108": {"fulltext": "A FEEL IN THE CHRIS mAS-AIR\\nThey s 2ifeel, as I say, in the air that s jest\\nAs blame-don sad as sweet!\\nIn the same ra-sho as I feel the best\\nAnd am spryest on my feet,\\nThey s alius a kind o sort of a ache\\nThat I can t lo-cate no-where\\nBut it comes with Chris^mas^ and no mistake\\nA kind o feel in the air.\\nIs it the racket the childern raise\\nW y, not God bless em! no I\\nIs it the eyes and the cheeks ablaze\\nLike my own wuz, long ago?\\nIs it the bleat o the whistle and beat\\nO the little toy-drum and blare\\nO the horn? No! no I it is jest the sweet\\nThe sad-sweet feel in the air.\\n^3", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0110.jp2"}, "109": {"fulltext": "ON A FLY-LEAF\\nIN JOHN BOYLE O rEILLY s POEMS\\nSingers there are of courtly themes\\nDrapers in verse who would dress their rhymes\\nIn robes of ermine and singers of dreams\\nOf gods high-throned in the classic times\\nSingers of nymphs, in their dim retreats,\\nSatyrs, with scepter and diadem\\nBut the singer who sings as a man s heart beats\\nWell may blush for the rest of them.\\nI like the thrill of such poems as these,\\nAll spirit and fervor of splendid fact\\nPulse, and muscle, and arteries\\nOf living, heroic thought and act!\\nWhere every line is a vein of red\\nAnd rapturous blood all unconfined\\nAs it leaps from a heart that has joyed and bled\\nWith the rights and the wrongs of all mankind.\\n83", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0111.jp2"}, "110": {"fulltext": "THE SERMON OF THE ROSE\\nWillful we are, in our infirmity\\nOf childish questioning and discontent.\\nWhate er befalls us is divinely meant\\nThou Truth the clearer for thy mystery\\nMake us to meet what is or is to be\\nWith fervid welcome, knowing it is sent\\nTo serve us in some way full excellent,\\nThough we discern it all belatedly.\\nThe rose buds, and the rose blooms, and the rose\\nBows in the dews, and in its fulness, lo,\\nIs in the lover s hand, then on the breast\\nOf her he loves, and there dies. And who\\nknows\\nWhat fate of all a rose may undergo\\nIs fairest, dearest, sweetest, loveliest?\\nNay, we are children we will not mature.\\nA blessed gift must seem a theft and tears\\nMust storm our eyes when but a joy appears\\nIn drear disguise of sorrow and how poor\\nWe seem when we are richest, most secure\\n84", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0112.jp2"}, "111": {"fulltext": "THE SERMON OF THE ROSE\\nAgainst all poverty the lifelong years\\nWe yet must waste in childish doubts and fears\\nThat, in despite of reason, still endure\\nAlas the sermon of the rose we will\\nNot wisely ponder nor the sobs of grief\\nLulled into sighs of rapture, nor the cry\\nOf fierce defiance that again is still.\\nBe patient patient with our frail belief,\\nAnd stay it yet a little ere we die.\\nO opulent life of ours, though dispossessed\\nOf treasure after treasure Youth most fair\\nWent first, but left its priceless coil of hair\\nMoaned over, sleepless nights, kissed and caressed\\nThrough drip and blur of tears the tenderest.\\nAnd next went Love the ripe rose glowing there.\\nHer very sister! //is here, but where\\nIs she^ of all the world the first and best?\\nAnd yet how sweet the sweet earth after rain\\nHow sweet the sunlight on the garden-wall\\nAcross the roses and how sweetly flows\\nThe limpid yodel of the brook again\\nAnd yet and yet how sweeter, after all.\\nThe smoldering sweetness of a dead red rose.\\n85", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0113.jp2"}, "112": {"fulltext": "OSCAR C. McCULLOCH\\nINDIANAPOLIS, DEC. 12, 1 89 1\\nWhat would best please our friend, in token of\\nThe sense of our great loss? Our sighs and\\ntears\\nNay, these he fought against through all his\\nyears,\\nHeroically voicing, high above\\nGrief s ceaseless minor, moaning like a dove.\\nThe paean triumphant that the soldier hears.\\nScaling the walls of death, midst shouts and\\ncheers.\\nThe old flag laughing in his eyes last love.\\nNay, then, to pleasure him were it not meet\\nTo yield him bravely, as his fate arrives\\nDrape him in radiant roses, head and feet.\\nAnd be partakers, while his work survives,\\nOf his fair fame, paying the tribute sweet\\nTo all humanity our nobler lives.\\n86", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0114.jp2"}, "113": {"fulltext": "THE LOVING CUP\\nTranced in the glamor of a dream\\nWhere banquet-lights and fancies gleam\\nAnd ripest wit and wine abound,\\nAnd pledges hale go round and round,\\nLo, dazzled with enchanted rays\\nAs in the golden olden days\\nSir Galahad my eyes swim up\\nTo greet your splendor, Loving Cup\\nWhat is the secret of your art.\\nLinking together hand and heart\\nYour m3^riad votaries who do\\nThemselves most honor honoring you\\nWhat gracious service have you done\\nTo win the name that you have won\\nKissing it baclrirom tuneful lips\\nThat sing your praise between the sips\\nYour spicy breath, O Loving Cup,\\nThat, like an incense steaming up,\\n87", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0115.jp2"}, "114": {"fulltext": "THE LOVING CUP\\nFull-freighted with a fragrance fine\\nAs ever swooned on sense of mine,\\nIs rare enough. But then, ah me!\\nHow rarer every memory\\nThat, rising with it, wreathes and blends\\nIn forms and faces of my friends!\\nLoving Cup in fancy still,\\n1 clasp their hands, and feel the thrill\\nOf fellowship that still endures\\nWhile lips are theirs and wine is yours\\nAnd while my memory journeys down\\nThe years that lead to Boston Town,\\nAbide where first were rendered up\\nOur mutual loves, O Loving Cup!\\nSS", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0116.jp2"}, "115": {"fulltext": "SAY SOMETHING TO ME\\nSay something to me I ve waited so long\\nWaited and wondered in vain\\nOnly a sentence would fall like a song\\nOver this listening pain\\nOver a silence that glowers and frowns,\\nEven my pencil to-night\\nSlips in the dews of my sorrow and wounds\\nEach tender word that I write.\\nSay something to me if only to tell\\nMe you remember the past\\nLet the sweet words, like the notes of a bell,\\nRing out my vigil at last.\\nO it were better, far better than this\\nDoubt and distrust in the breast,\\nFor in the wine of a fanciful kiss\\nI could taste Heaven, and rest.\\n89", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0117.jp2"}, "116": {"fulltext": "SAY SOMETHING TO ME\\nSay something to me! I kneel and I plead,\\nIn my wild need, for a word;\\nIf my poor heart from this silence were freed,\\nI could soar up like a bird\\nIn the glad morning, and twitter and sing,\\nCarol and warble and cry\\nBlithe as the lark as he cruises awing\\nOver the deeps of the sky.\\n90", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0118.jp2"}, "117": {"fulltext": "A WHOLLY UNSCHOLASTIC OPINION\\nPlain hoss-sense in poetry-wrltin\\nWould jes knock sentiment a-kitin\\nMostly poets is all star-gazin\\nAnd moanin and groanin and paraphrasin\\n91", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0119.jp2"}, "118": {"fulltext": "A SHORT NIN BREAD SONG\u00e2\u0080\u0094 PIECED\\nOUT\\nBehine de hen-house, on my knees,\\nThought I hearn a chickin sneeze\\nSneezed so hard wi de whoopin -cough\\nI thought he d sneeze his blame head off.\\nChorus\\nFotch dat dough f um de kitchen-shed\\nRake dem coals out hot an red\\nPutt on de oven an putt on de led,\\nMammy s gwineter cook some short nin\\nbread.\\nO I got a house in Baltimo\\nStreet-kyars run right by my do\\nStreet-kyars run right by my gate,\\nHit s git up soon and set up late.\\nChorus\\n92", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0122.jp2"}, "119": {"fulltext": "A SHORt nIN bread song PIECED OUT\\nDe raincrow hide in some ole tree\\nAn holler out, all hoarse, at me\\nSayes, When I sing, de rain hit po\\nSo s you ain t bleedged to plow no mo\\nChorus\\nOle man Toad, on High-low Hill,\\nHe steal my dram an drink his fill,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nHeels in the path, an toes in the grass-\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nI-Iit ain t de fus time an shain t be de las\\nChorus\\nWhen corn-plantin done come roun\\nBlackbird own de whole plowed-groun\\nCorn in de grain, as I ve hearn said,\\nDat s de blackbird s short nin bread.\\nChorus\\nDe sweetes chune what evah I heard\\nIs de sairanade o de mockin -bird;\\nWhilse de mou nfullest an de least I love\\nIs de Sund y-song o de ole woods-dove.\\nChorus\\n93", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0123.jp2"}, "120": {"fulltext": "A SHORT NIN BREAD SONG PIECED OUT\\nI nevah ain t know, outside o school,\\nA smartah mare dan my ole mule,\\nI holler Wo, an she go gee,\\nDes lak de good Lord chast nin me.\\nChorus\\nHit s no houn -pup I taken to raise\\nHain t nevah jes ly airn my praise:\\nDe mo cawn-pone I feed dat pup,\\nDe mo he des won t fatten up.\\nChorus\\nI hangs a hoss-shoe ovah my head,\\nAn I keeps a ole sieve under de bed.\\nSo, quinchiquently, I sleep soun\\nWid no ole witches pester n roun\\nChorus\\nI jine de chu ch las Chuesday night,\\nBut when Sis Jane ain t treat me right\\nI low her chu ch ain none o mine,\\nSo I nounce to all J done on-jine.\\nChorus\\n94", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0124.jp2"}, "121": {"fulltext": "CASSANDER\\nCassander! O, Cassander! her mother s\\nvoice seems cle r\\nAs ever, from the old back-porch, a-hollerin fer\\nher\\nEspecially in airly Spring like May, two year\\nago\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nLast time she hollered fer her, and Cassander\\ndidn t hear!\\nCassander wuz so chirpy-like and sociable and free,\\nAnd good to ever body, and wuz even good to me\\nThough wuz jes a common well, a farm-\\nhand, don t you know,\\nA-workin on her father s place, as pore as pore\\ncould be\\nHer bein* jes a only child, Cassander had her way\\nA good- eal more n other girls; and neighbers ust\\nto say\\n95", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0125.jp2"}, "122": {"fulltext": "CASSANDER\\nShe looked most like her Mother, but wuz turned\\nmost like her Pap,\\nExcept he had no use fer town-ioSk.^ then nox yit\\nto-day I\\nI can t claim she incouraged me: She d let me\\ndrive her in\\nTo town sometimes, on Saturd ys, and fetch her\\nhome ag in,\\nTel onc t she sensed Old Moll and me,\\nand some blame city-chap.\\nHe driv her home, two-forty style, in face o kith\\nand kin.\\nShe even tried to make him stay fer supper, but\\nI low\\nHe must a -kindo spicioned some objections.\\nAnyhow,\\nHer mother callin at her, whilse her father\\nstood and shook\\nHis fist, the town-chap turnt his team and made\\nhis partin bow.\\n96", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0126.jp2"}, "123": {"fulltext": "CASSANDER\\nCassander! Tou^ Cassander! hear her\\nmother jes as plain,\\n^And see Cassander blushin like the peach-tree\\ndown the lane,\\nWhilse I sneaked on apast her, with a sort o\\nhangdog look,\\nA-feelin cheap as sorghum and as green as sugar-\\ncane!\\n(You see, I d skooted when she met her town\\nbeau when, in fact,\\nEf I d had sense I d stayed fer her. But sense\\nwuz what I lacked\\nSo I d cut home ahead o her, so s I could tell\\nem what\\nWuz keepin her. And -you know how a jealous\\nfool 11 act I)\\nI past her, I wuz sayin/ but she never turnt her\\nhead\\nI swallered-like and cle red my th oat but that\\nwuz all I said\\n97", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0127.jp2"}, "124": {"fulltext": "CASSANDER\\nAnd whilse I hoped fer some word back, it\\nwuzn t what I got.\\nThat girl 11 not stay stiller on the day she s layin\\ndead!\\nWell, that-air silence lasted! Ust to listen ever\\nday\\nI d be at work and hear her mother callin thata-\\nway;\\nI d sight Cassander, mayby, cuttin home acrost\\nthe blue\\nAnd drizzly fields but nary answer nary word\\nto say!\\nPutt in about two weeks o that two weeks o\\nrain and mud,\\nEr mostly so: I couldn t plow. The old crick\\nlike a flood:\\nAnd, lonesome as a borried dog, I d wade them\\nold woods through\\nThe dogwood blossoms white as snow, and red-\\nbuds red as blood.\\n98", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0128.jp2"}, "125": {"fulltext": "CASSANDER\\nLast time her mother called her sich a morning\\nlike as now:\\nThe robins and the bluebirds, and the blossoms on\\nthe bough\\nAnd this wuz yit fore brekfust, with the sun\\nout at his best,\\nAnd bosses kickin in the barn and dry enough\\nto plow.\\nCassander! (9, Cassander! And her only\\nanswer What\\nA letter, twisted round the cookstove-damper,\\nsmokin -hot,\\nA-statin I wuz married on that day of all\\nthe rest.\\nThe day my husband fetched me home ef you\\nain t all fergot!\\nCassander! O, Cassander! seems, alius, long\\nin May,\\nI hear her mother callin her a-callin% night and\\nday\\n1 99", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0129.jp2"}, "126": {"fulltext": "CASSANDER\\nCassander! O, Cassander! alius callin as I\\nsay,\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0Cassander! O, Cassander! jes a-callin that-\\naway.\\nlOO", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0130.jp2"}, "127": {"fulltext": "EUGENE FIELD\\nWith gentlest tears, no less than jubilee\\nOf blithest joy, we heard him, and still hear\\nHim singing on, with full voice, pure and clear,\\nUplifted, as some classic melody\\nIn sweetest legends of old minstrelsy\\nOr, swarming Elfin-like upon the ear,\\nHis airy notes make all the atmosphere\\nOne blur of bird and bee and lullaby.\\nHis tribute Luster in the faded bloom\\nOf cheeks of old, old mothers and the fall\\nOf gracious dews in eyes long dry and dim\\nAnd hope in lovers pathways midst perfume\\nOf woodland haunts; and meed exceeding\\nall,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nThe love of little children laurels him.\\nlOI", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0131.jp2"}, "128": {"fulltext": "A BALLAD\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nWITH A SERIOUS CONCLUSION\\nCrowd about me, little children\\nCome and cluster round my knee\\nWhile I tell a Jittle story\\nThat happened once with me.\\nMy father he had gone away\\nA-sailing on the foam,\\nLeaving me the merest infant\\nAnd my mother dear at home\\nFor my father was a sailor,\\nAnd he sailed the ocean o er\\nFor full five years ere yet again\\nHe reached his native shore.\\nAnd I had grown up rugged\\nAnd healthy day by day,\\nThough I was but a puny babe\\nWhen father went away.\\nI02", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0132.jp2"}, "129": {"fulltext": "A BALLAD\\nPoor mother she would kiss me\\nAnd look at me and sigh\\nSo strangely, oft I wondered\\nAnd would ask the reason why.\\nAnd she would answer sadly,\\nBetween her sobs and tears,\\nYou look so like your father,\\nFar away so many years!\\nAnd then she would caress me\\nAnd brush my hair away.\\nAnd tell me not to question,\\nBut to run about my play.\\nThus I went playing thoughtfully\\nFor that my mother said,\\nTou look so like your father I\\nKept ringing in my head,\\nSo, ranging once the golden sands\\nThat looked out on the sea,\\nI called aloud, My father dear,\\nCome back to ma and me!\\n103", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0133.jp2"}, "130": {"fulltext": "A BALLAD\\nThen I saw a glancing shadow\\nOn the sand, and heard the shriek\\nOf a seagull flying seaward,\\nAnd I heard a gruff voice speak:\\nAye, aye, my little shipmate,\\nI thought I heard you hail;\\nWere you trumpeting that seagull,\\nOr do you see a sail?\\nAnd as rough and gruff a sailor\\nAs ever sailed the sea\\nWas standing near grotesquely\\nAnd leering dreadfully.\\nI replied, though I was frightened,-\\nIt was my father dear\\nI was calling for across the sea\\nI think he didn t hear.\\nAnd then the sailor leered again\\nIn such a frightful way.\\nAnd made so many faces\\nI was little loath to stay.\\n104 V", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0134.jp2"}, "131": {"fulltext": "A BALLAD\\nBut he Started fiercely toward me\\nThen made a sudden halt\\nAnd roared, /think he heard you!\\nAnd turned a somersault.\\nThen a wild fear overcame me,\\nAnd I flew off like the wind.\\nShrieking -Mother! and the sailor\\nJust a little way behind!\\nAnd then my mother heard me,\\nAnd I saw her shade her eyes,\\nLooking toward me from the doorway,\\nTransfixed with pale surprise\\nFor a moment then her features\\nGlowed with all their wonted charms\\nAs the sailor overtook me.\\nAnd I fainted in her arms.\\nWhen I awoke to reason\\nI shuddered with affright\\nTijl I felt my mother s presence\\nWith a thrill of wild delight\u00e2\u0080\u0094", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0135.jp2"}, "132": {"fulltext": "A BALLAD\\nTill, amid a shower of kisses\\nFalling glad as summer rain,\\nA muffled thunder rumbled,\\nIs he coming round again?\\nThen I shrieked and clung unto her,\\nWhile her features flushed and burned\\nAs she told me it was father\\nFrom a foreign land returned.\\nI said when I was calm again,\\nAnd thoughtfully once more\\nHad dwelt upon my mother s words\\nOf just the day before,\\nI don t look like my father.\\nAs you told me yesterday\\nI know I don t or father\\nWould have run the other way.\\nio6", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0136.jp2"}, "133": {"fulltext": "THE GREEN GRASS OF OLD IRELAND\\nThe green grass av owld Ireland\\nWhilst I be far away,\\nAll fresh an clean an jewel-green\\nIt s growin there to-day.\\nOh, it s cleaner, greener growin\\nAll the grassy worrld around,\\nIt s greener yet nor any grass\\nThat grows on top o ground!\\nThe green grass av owld Ireland,\\nIndade, an balm t u d be\\nTo eyes like mine that drip wid brine\\nAs salty as the sea\\nFor still the more I m stoppin here,\\nThe more I m sore to see\\nThe glory av the green grass av owld Ireland\\nTen years ye ve paid my airnin s\\nI ve the I avin s on the shelf,\\nThough I be here widout a queen\\nAn own meself meself", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0137.jp2"}, "134": {"fulltext": "THE GREEN GRASS OF OLD IRELAND\\nI m comin over steerage,\\nBut I m goin back firrst-class,\\nPatrolin av the foremost deck\\nFor firrst sight av the grass.\\nGod bless yez, free Ameriky!\\nI love yez, dock and shore!\\nI kem to yez in poverty\\nThat s worstin me no more.\\nBut most I m lovin Erin yet,\\nWid all her graves, d ye see,\\nBy reason av the green grass av owld Ireland.\\n:o8", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0138.jp2"}, "135": {"fulltext": "AT HIS WINTRY TENT\\nSAMUEL RICHARDS ARTIST DENVER, COLORADO\\nNot only master of his art was he,\\nBut master of his spirit winged indeed\\nFor lordliest height, yet poised for lowliest need\\nOf those, alas upheld less buoyantly.\\nHe gloried even in adversity.\\nAnd won his country s plaudits, and the meed\\nOf Old World praise, as one loath to succeed\\nWhile others were denied like victory.\\nThough passed, I count him still my master-friend,\\nInvincible as through his mortal fight,\\nThe laughing light of faith still in his eye\\nAs, at his wintry tent, pitched at the end\\nOf life, he gaily called tome Good-night,\\nOld friend, good-night for there is no good-bye.\\n109", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0139.jp2"}, "136": {"fulltext": "OUR QUEER OLD WORLD\\nFer them ^afs here in airliest infant stages^\\nIfs a hard world\\nFer them at gits the knocks of boyhood s ages^\\nIfs a mean world:\\nFor them at nothin s good enough they regittin%\\nIfs a bad world:\\nFer them at learns at last whafs right andfttin\\\\\\nIfs a good world.\\nThe Hired Man.\\nIt s a purty hard world you find, my child\\nIt s a purty hard world you find!\\nYou fight, little rascal and kick and squall,\\nAnd snort out medicine, spoon and all!\\nWhen you re here longer you ll change yer mind\\nAnd simmer down sorto half-rickonciled.\\nBut now Jee!-\\nJ^ !-mun-nee!\\nIt s a purty hard world, my child!\\nno", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0140.jp2"}, "137": {"fulltext": "OUR QUEER OLD WORLD\\nIt s a purty mean world you re in, my lad\\nIt s a purty mean world you re in\\nWe know, of course, in your schoolboy-days\\nIt s a world of too many troublesome ways\\nOf tryin things over and startin ag in,\\nYit your chance beats what your parents had.\\nBut now O\\nFire-and-tow I\\nIt s a purty mean world, my lad!\\nIt s a purty bad world you ve struck, young chap\\nIt s a purty bad world you ve struck\\nBut study the cards that you hold, you know,\\nAnd your hopes will sprout and your mustache\\ngrow,\\nAnd your store-clothes likely will change your\\nluck.\\nAnd you ll rake a rich ladybird into yer lap!\\nBut now Doubt\\nAll things out.\\nIt s a purty mean world, young chap!\\nIll", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0141.jp2"}, "138": {"fulltext": "OUR QUEER OLD WORLD\\nIt s a purty good world this is, old man\\nI s a purty good world this Is!\\nFor all its follies and shows and lies\\nIt s rainy weather, and cheeks likewise,\\nAnd age, hard-hearin and rheumatiz.\\nWe re not a-faultin the Lord s own plan\\nAll things jest\\nAt their best.\\nIt s a purty good world, old man!\\n113", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0142.jp2"}, "139": {"fulltext": "THE UNHEARD\\nOne in the musical throng\\nStood forth with his violin\\nAnd warm was his welcome, and long\\nThe later applause and the din.\\nHe had uttered, with masterful skill,\\nA melody hailed of men\\nAnd his own blood leapt a-thrill,\\nAs they thundered again.\\nII\\nAnother stood forth. And a rose\\nBloomed in her hair likewise\\nOne at her tremulous throat\\nAnd a rapture bloomed in her eyes.\\nTempests of cheers upon cheers,\\nPraises to last a life long;\\nRoses in showers of tears\\nAll for her song.\\n11^", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0143.jp2"}, "140": {"fulltext": "THE UNHEARD\\nIII\\nOne sat apart and alone,\\nHer lips clasped close and straight,\\nUttering never a tone\\nThat the World might hear, elate\\nUttering never a low\\nMurmurous verse nor a part\\nOf the veriest song But O\\nThe song in her heart!\\n114", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0144.jp2"}, "141": {"fulltext": "THE RHYMES OF IRONQUILL\\nI ve alius held till jest of late\\nThat Poetry and me\\nGot on best, not to sociate\\nThat is, most poetry\\nBut t other day my son-in-law^\\nMilt ben in town to mill\\nFetched home a present-like, fer Ma,\\nThe Rhymes of Ironquill.\\nMilt ust to teach and, course, his views\\nRanks over common sense;\\nThat s biased me, till I refuse\\nMost all he rickommends.\\nBut Ma she read and read along\\nAnd cried, like women will,\\nAbout that Washerwoman s Song\\nIn Rhymes of Ironquill.\\n8 115", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0145.jp2"}, "142": {"fulltext": "THE RHYMES OF IRONQUILL\\nAnd then she made me read the thing,\\nAnd found my specs and all\\nAnd I jest leant back there i jing\\nMy cheer ag inst the wall\\nAnd read and read, and read and read^\\nAll to myse f ontll\\nI lit the lamp and went to bed\\nWith Rhymes of Ironquill\\nI propped myse f up there, and durnt\\nI never shet an eye\\nTill daylight! hogged the whole concern\\nTee-total, mighty nigh\\nI d sigh sometimes, and cry sometimes,\\nEr laugh jest fit to kill\\nClean ca^tured-Y k^ with them-air rhymes\\nO that-air Ironquill!\\nRead that-un bout old Marmaton\\nAt hain t ben ever sized\\nIn Song before and yit s rolled on\\nJest same as apostrophized\\nii6", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0146.jp2"}, "143": {"fulltext": "THE RHYMES OF IRONQUILL\\nPutt me in mind o our old crick\\nAt Freefort and the mill\\nx\\\\nd Hinchman sFord till jest home^iok.-\\nThem Rhymes of Ironquill\\nRead that-un, too, bout Game o Whist/\\nAnd likenin Life to fun\\nLike that and playin out yer fist,\\nHowever cards is run:\\nAnd them Tobacker-Stemmers* Song\\nThey sung with sich a will\\nDown mongst the misery and wrong\\nIn Rhymes of Ironquill.\\nAnd old John Brown, who broke the sod\\nOf Freedom s fallor field\\nAnd sowed his heart there, thankin God\\nPore slaves would git the yield\\nRained his last tears fer them and us\\nTo irrigate and till\\nA crop of Song as glorious\\nAs Rhymes of Ironquill.\\n117", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0147.jp2"}, "144": {"fulltext": "THE RHYMES OF IRONQUILL\\nAnd sergeant, died there in the War,\\nAt talked, out of his head\\nHe went back to the Violet Star,\\nI ll bet jest like he said!\\nYer Wars kin riddle bone and flesh.\\nAnd blow out brains, and spill\\nLife-blood, ^but Somefin lives on, fresh\\nAs Rhymes of Ironquill.\\nii8", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0148.jp2"}, "145": {"fulltext": "EQUITY\u00e2\u0080\u0094?\\nThe meanest man I ever saw\\nAlius kep inside o the law;\\nAnd ten-times better fellers I ve knowed\\nThe blame gran -jury s sent over the road.\\n119", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0149.jp2"}, "146": {"fulltext": "THE SMITTEN PURIST\\nAND THE CHARMING MISS SMITH s EFFECT UPON HIM\\nThweet Poethy! let me lithp forethwith,\\nThat I may thhing of the name of Smith\\nWhich name, alath\\nIn Plarmony hath\\nNo adequate rhyme, letht you grant me thith,\\nThat the thimple thibillant thound of eth\\n(Which to thave my thoul, I can not expreth!)\\nThuth I may thhingingly,\\nWooing and winningly\\nThu thu thound in the name of Smith.\\nO give me a name that will rhyme with Smith,\\nFor wild and weird ath the sthrange name ith,\\nI would sthrangle a sthrain\\nAnd a thad refrain\\nI20", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0150.jp2"}, "147": {"fulltext": "THE SMITTEN PURIST\\nFaint and sthvveet ath a whithpered kissth\\nI would thhing thome thong for the luythtic mith\\nWho beareth the thingular name of Smith\\nThe sthrangely curiouth,\\nRich and luxuriouth\\nAp pup pellation of Smith\\nhad I a name that would rhyme with Smith\\nThome rythmical tincture of rethonant blith\\nThome melody rare\\nAth the cherubth blare\\nOn them little trumpeths they re foolin with\\n1 would thit me down, and I d thhing like thith\\nOf the girl of the thingular name of Smith\\nThe sthrangely curiouth,\\nRich and luxuriouth\\nPup patronymic of Smith\\n121", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0151.jp2"}, "148": {"fulltext": "IN THE EVENING\\nIn the evening of our days,\\nWhen the first far stars above\\nGlimmer dimmer, through the haze,\\nThan the dev^y eyes of love.\\nShall we mournfully revert\\nTo the vanished morns and Mays\\nOf our youth, v^ith hearts that hurt,-\\nIn the evening of our days\\nII\\nShall the hand that holds your own\\nTill the tw^ain are thrilled as now,-\\nBe withheld, or colder grown?\\nShall my kiss upon your brow\\nFalter from its high estate\\nAnd, in all forgetful ways.\\nShall we sit apart and wait\\nIn the evening of our days?\\n122", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0152.jp2"}, "149": {"fulltext": "IN THE EVENING\\nIII\\nNay, my wife \u00e2\u0080\u0094my life!\u00e2\u0080\u0094 the gloom\\nShall enfold us velvetwise,\\nAnd my smile shall be the groom\\nOf the gladness of your eyes\\nGently, gently as the dew\\nMingles with the darkening maze,\\nI shall fall asleep with you\\nIn the evening of our days.\\n23", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0153.jp2"}, "150": {"fulltext": "MOONSHINER S SERENADE\\nThe night s blind-black, an I low the stars s\\nAll skeered at that-air dog s bow-wows!\\nI sensed the woods-road, dumb the bars,\\nAn arrove here, tromplin over cows.\\nThe mist hangs thick enough to cut.\\nBut there s her light a-glimmerin through\\nThe mornin -glories, twisted shut\\nAn shorely there s her shadder too!\\nHo I hifs good-nighty\\nMy Beauty -Bright I\\nThe moon cainH ?natch your candle-light\\nTour candle-light -with you cainH shine,\\nLau-reel Ladylove I tiptoe-Jinel\\nOomh! how them roses soaks the air!\\nThess drenched with mist an renched with\\ndew!\\nThey s a smell o plums, too, round somewhere\\nAn I kin smell ripe apples, too.\\n124", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0154.jp2"}, "151": {"fulltext": "moonshiner s serenade\\nMix all them sweet things into one,\\nYer roses, fmit, an flower an vine,\\nYit I ll say, No, I don t choose none,\\nEf I kin git that girl of mine!\\nHoi hifs good-nighty\\nMy Beauty-Bright I\\nPrimp a while an^ blow out the\\nPutt me ill your prayers^ an then\\nTil be txvic t as good-again\\n25", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0155.jp2"}, "152": {"fulltext": "THE SILENT SINGER\\nMRS. D. M. JORDAN, APRIL 29, 1895\\nAll sudden she hath ceased to sing,\\nHushed in eternal slumbering,\\nAnd we make moan that she is dead.\\nNay; peace! be comforted.\\nBetween her singing and her tears\\nShe pauses, listening and she hears\\nThe Song we can not hear. And thus\\nShe mutely pities us.\\nCould she speak out, we doubt not she\\nWould turn to us full tenderly.\\nAnd in the old melodious voice\\nSay: Weep not, but rejoice.\\nAye, musical as waters run\\nIn woodland rills through shade and sun.\\nThe sweet voice would flow on and say,-\\nBe glad with me to-day.\\n126", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0156.jp2"}, "153": {"fulltext": "THE SILENT SINGER\\nYour Earth was very dear and fair\\nTo me the groves and grasses there\\nThe bursting buds and blossoms O\\nI always loved them so\\nThe very dews within them seemed\\nReflected by mine eyes and gleamed\\nAdown my cheeks in what you knew\\nAs tears, and not as dew.\\nYour birds, too, in the orchard boughs\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nI could not hear them from the house\\nBut I must leave my work and stray\\nOut in the open day\\nAnd the illimitable range\\nOf their vast freedom always strange\\nAnd new to me It pierced my heart\\nWith sweetness as a dart!\\nThe singing! singing! singing! All\\nThe trees bloomed blossoms musical\\nThat chirped and trilled and warbled till\\nMy whole soul seemed to fill\\n127", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0157.jp2"}, "154": {"fulltext": "THE SILENT SINGER\\nTo overflow with music, so\\nThat I have found me kneeling low\\nIn the lush grass, with murmurous words\\nThanking God and the birds.\\nSo with the ones to me most dear\\nI loved them, as I love them Here\\nBear with my memory, therefore,\\nAs when in days of yore,\\nO friends of mine, ye praised the note\\nOf some song, quavering from my throat\\nOut of the overstress of love\\nAnd all the pain thereof.\\nAnd ye, too, do I love with this\\nSame love and Heaven knows all it is,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nThe birds song in it bud and bloom\\nThe turf, but not the tomb.\\nBetween her singing and her tears\\nShe pauses, listening and she hears\\nThe Song we can not hear. And thus\\nShe mutely pities us.\\n128", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0158.jp2"}, "155": {"fulltext": "A PEACE-HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC\\nLOUISVILLE, KY., SEPT. 12, 1895 29TH ENCAMP-\\nMENT G. A. R.\\nThere s a Voice across the Nation like a mighty\\nocean-hail,\\nBorne up from out the Southland as the seas be-\\nfore the gale\\nIts breath is in the streaming flag and in the flying\\nsail\\nAs we go sailing on.\\nTis a Voice that we remember ere its summons\\nsoothed as now\\nWhen it rang in battle-challenge, and we answered\\nvow with vow,\\nWith roar of gun and hiss of sword and crash of\\nprow and prow.\\nAs we went sailing on.\\n129", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0159.jp2"}, "156": {"fulltext": "A PEACE-HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC\\nOur hope sank, even as we saw the sun sink faint\\nand far,\\nThe Ship of State went groping through the blind-\\ning smoke of War\\nThrough blackest midnight lurching, all uncheered\\nof moon or star,\\nYet sailing sailing on.\\nAs One who spake the dead awake, with life-blood\\nleaping warm\\nWho walked the troubled waters, all unscathed, in\\nmortal form,\\nWe felt our Pilot s presence with His hand upon\\nthe storm.\\nAs we went sailing on.\\nO Voice of passion lulled to peace, this dawning\\nof To-day\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nO Voices twain now blent as one, ye sing all fears\\naway.\\nSince foe and foe are friends, and lo! the Lord, as\\nglad as they.\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nHe sends us sailing on.\\n130", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0160.jp2"}, "157": {"fulltext": "ONE WITH A SONG\\nFRANK L. STANTON\\nHe sings and his song is heard,\\nPure as a joyous prayer,\\nBecause he sings of the simple things\\nThe fields, and the open air,\\nThe orchard-bough, and the mockingbird,\\nAnd the blossoms everywhere.\\nHe sings of a wealth we hold\\nIn common ownership\\nThe wildwood nook, and the laugh of the\\nbrook,\\nAnd the dewdrop s drip and drip.\\nThe love of the lily s heart of gold,\\nAnd the kiss of the rose s lip.\\nThe universal heart\\nLeans listening to his lay\\nThat glints and gleams with the glimmering\\ndreams\\n9 131", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0161.jp2"}, "158": {"fulltext": "ONE WITH A SONG\\nOf children at their play\\nA lay as rich with unconscious art\\nAs the first song-bird s of May.\\nOurs every rapturous tone\\nOf every song of glee,\\nBecause his voice makes native choice\\nOf Nature s harmony\\nSo that his singing seems our own,\\nAnd ours his ecstasy.\\nSteadfastly, bravely glad\\nAbove all earthly stress.\\nHe lifts his line to heights divine,\\nAnd, singing, ever says,\\nThis is a better world than bad\\nGod s love is limitless.\\nHe sings and his song is heard,\\nPure as a joyous prayer.\\nBecause he sings of the simple things\\nThe fields, and the open air,\\nThe orchard-bough, and the mockingbird,\\nAnd the blossoms everywhere.\\n132", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0162.jp2"}, "159": {"fulltext": "MR. FOLEY S CHRISTMAS\\nThere s nothing sweet in. the city\\nBut the patient lives of the poor.\\nJohn Boyle O Reilly\\nSince pick av them I m sore denied\\nTwixt play or work, I say,\\nThough it be Christmas, I decide\\nI ll work whilst others play:\\nI ll whustle, too, wid Christmas pride\\nTo airn me extry pay.\\nIt s like the job s more glorified\\nThat s done a-holiday!\\nDan, dip a coal in dad s pipe-bowl;\\nKate, pass me dinner-can:\\nOch! Mary woman, save yer sowl,\\nYe ve kissed a workin -man\\nYe have, this Christmas mornin%\\nYe ve kissed a workin -man!\\n133", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0163.jp2"}, "160": {"fulltext": "MR. FOLEY S CHRISTMAS\\nII\\nWhisht, Kate an Dan ten thousan grates\\nThere s yon where ne er a charm\\nAv childer-faces sanctuates\\nThe city-homes from harm\\nIt s cold out there the weather waits\\nAn bitter whirls the storm,\\nBut, faith these arms av little Kate s\\nLI kape her f ayther warm\\nAy, Danny, tight me belt a mite,\\nKate, aisy wid the can!\\nSure, I d be comin home to-night\\nA hungry workin -man\\nD ye moind, this Christmas avenin\\nA howlin -hungry man!\\nIll\\nIt s sorry for the boss I be,\\nWid new contracts to sign\\nAn hire a sub to oversee\\nWhilst he lave off an dine:", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0164.jp2"}, "161": {"fulltext": "MR. FOLEY S CHRISTMAS\\nIt s sorry for the Company\\nThat owns the Aarie Line\\nWhat vasht raasponshibility\\nThey have, compared wid mine\\nThere, Katy! git me t other mitt,\\nAn fetch me yon from Dan\\n(Wid each one s Christmas hid in it!)\\nLave go me dinner-can!\\nYe 11 have me docked this mornin\\nThis blessed Christmas mornin\\nA dishgraced workin -mani\\n135", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0165.jp2"}, "162": {"fulltext": "AT SEA\\nO WE go down to sea in ships\\nBut Hope remains behind,\\nAnd Love, with laughter on his lips,\\nAnd Peace, of passive mind\\nWhile out across the deeps of night,\\nWith lifted sails of prayer,\\nWe voyage off in quest of light.\\nNor find it anywhere.\\nO Thou who wroughtest earth and sea,\\nYet keepest from our eyes\\nThe shores of an eternity\\nIn calms of Paradise,\\nBlow back upon our foolish quest\\nWith all the driving rain\\nOf blinding tears and wild unrest,\\nAnd waft us home again.\\n136", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0166.jp2"}, "163": {"fulltext": "WHAT THE WIND SAID", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0167.jp2"}, "164": {"fulltext": "THE EDGE OF THE WIND\\nTe stars in ye skies seem twiitkling\\nIn icicles of light\\nAnd ye edge of ye wind cuts keener\\nThan ever ye sword-edge might;\\nYe footstefs crunch in ye courtway,\\nAnd ye trough aiid ye cask go \u00e2\u0080\u00a2ping!\\nTe chi7za cracks in ye pantry^\\nAnd ye crickets cease to sing.", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0168.jp2"}, "165": {"fulltext": "WHAT THE WIND SAID\\nI muse to-day^ in a listless way,\\nIn the glemn of a stmnner la?id\\nI close my eyes as a lover ?nay\\nAt the touch of his sweetheart s hand,\\nAnd I hear these things in the whisperings\\nOf the zephyrs ^roitnd me fanned\\nI am the Wind, and I rule mankind,\\nAnd I hold a sovereign reign\\nOver the lands, as God designed,\\nAnd the waters they contain\\nLo the bound of the wide world round\\nFalleth in my domain\\nI was born on a stormy morn\\nIn a kingdom walled with snow,\\nWhose crystal cities laugh to scorn\\n139", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0169.jp2"}, "166": {"fulltext": "WHAT THE WIND SAID\\nThe proudest the world can show\\nAnd the daylight s glare is frozen there\\nIn the breath of the blasts that blow.\\nLife to me was a jubilee\\nFrom the first of my youthful days:\\nClinking my icy toys with glee\\nPlaying my childish plays\\nFilling my hands with the silver sands\\nTo scatter a thousand ways:\\nChasing the flakes that the Polar shakes\\nFrom his shaggy coat of white,\\nOr hunting the trace of the track he makes\\nAnd sweeping it from sight,\\nAs he turned to glare from the slippery stair\\nOf the iceberg s farthest height.\\nTill I grew so strong that I strayed ere long\\nFrom my home of ice and chill\\nWith an eager heart and a meriy song\\nI traveled the snows until\\nI heard the thaws in the ice-crag s jaws\\nCrunched with a hungry will;\\n140", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0170.jp2"}, "167": {"fulltext": "WHAT THE WIND SAID\\nAnd the angry crash of the waves that dash\\nThemselves on the jagged shore\\nWhere the splintered masts of the ice-wrecks flash,\\nAnd the frightened breakers roar\\nIn wild unrest on the ocean s breast\\nFor a thousand leagues or more.\\nAnd the grand old sea invited me\\nWith a million beckoning hands,\\nAnd I spread my wings for a flight as free\\nAs ever a sailor plans\\nWhen his thoughts are wild and his heart beguiled\\nWith the dreams of foreign lands.\\nI passed a ship on Its homeward trip,\\nWith a weary and toil-worn crew\\nAnd I kissed their flag with a welcome lip,\\nAnd so glad a gale I blew\\nThat the sailors quaffed their grog and laughed\\nAt the work I made them do.\\nI drifted by where sea-groves lie\\nLike brides in the fond caress\\nOf the warm sunshine and the tender sky\\n141", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0171.jp2"}, "168": {"fulltext": "WHAT THE WIND SAID\\nWhere the ocean, passionless\\nAnd tranquil, lies like a child whose eyes\\nAre blurred with drowsiness.\\nI drank the air and the perfume there,\\nAnd bathed in a fountain s spray;\\nAnd I smoothed the wings and the plumage rare\\nOf a bird for his roundelay,\\nAnd fluttered a rag from a signal-crag\\nFor a wretched castaway.\\nWith a seagull resting on my breast,\\nI launched on a madder flight\\nAnd I lashed the waves to a wild unrest,\\nAnd howled with a fierce delight\\nTill the daylight slept and I wailed and wept\\nLike a fretful babe all night.\\nFor I heard the boom of a gun strike doom\\nAnd the gleam of a blood-red star\\nGlared at me through the mirk and gloom\\nFrom the lighthouse tower afar\\nAnd I held my breath at the shriek of death\\nThat came from the harbor bar.\\n142", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0172.jp2"}, "169": {"fulltext": "WHAT THE WIND SAID\\nFor I am the Wind, and I rule mankind,\\nAnd I hold a sovereign reign\\nOver the lands, as God designed,\\nAnd the waters they contain\\nLo the bound of the wide world round\\nFalleth in my domain\\nI journeyed on, when the night was gone,\\nO er a coast of oak and pine\\nAnd I followed a path that a stream had drawn\\nThrough a land of vale and vine.\\nAnd here and there was a village fair\\nIn a nest of shade and shine.\\nI passed o er lakes where the sunshine shakes\\nAnd shivers his golden lance\\nOn the glittering shield of the wave that breaks\\nWhere the fish-boats dip and dance,\\nAnd the trader sails where the mist unveils\\nThe glory of old romance.\\nI joyed to stand where the jeweled hand\\nOf the maiden-morning lies\\nOn the tawny brow of the mountain-land,\\n143", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0173.jp2"}, "170": {"fulltext": "WHAT THE WIND SAID\\nWhere the eagle shrieks and cries,\\nAnd holds his throne to himself alone\\nFrom the light of human eyes.\\nAdown deep glades where the forest shades\\nAre dim as the dusk of day\\nWhere only the foot of the wild beast wades,\\nOr the Indian dares to stray,\\nAs the blacksnakes glide through the reeds and hide\\nIn the swamp-depths grim and gray.\\nAnd I turned and fled from the place of dread\\nTo the far-off haunts of men,\\nIn the city s heart is rest, I said,\\nBut I found it not, and when\\nI saw but care and vice reign there\\nI was filled with wrath again\\nAnd I blew a spark in the midnight dark\\nTill it flashed to an angry flame\\nAnd scarred the sky with a lurid mark\\n144", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0174.jp2"}, "171": {"fulltext": "WHAT THE WIND SAID\\nAs red as the blush of shame\\nAnd a hint of hell was the dying yell\\nThat up from the ruins came.\\nThe bells went wild, and the black smoke piled\\nIts pillars against the night,\\nTill I gathered them, like flocks defiled,\\nAnd scattered them left and right.\\nWhile the holocaust s red tresses tossed\\nAs a maddened Fury s might.\\nYe overthrown! did I jeer and groan\\nHo! who is your master? say!\\nYe shapes that writhe in the slag and moan\\nYour slow-charred souls away\\nYe worse than worst of things accurst\\nYe dead leaves of a day!\\nI am the Wind, and I rule mankind,\\nAnd I hold a sovereign reign\\nOver the lands, as God designed,\\nAnd the waters they contain\\nLo the bound of the wide world round\\nFalleth in my domain!\\nH5", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0175.jp2"}, "172": {"fulltext": "WHAT THE WIND SAID\\nI wake^ as one fro7n a dream half done^\\nAnd gaze with a dazzled eye\\nOn an autumn leaf like a scrap of sun\\nThat the wind goes whirling by,\\nWhile afar I hear with a chill of fear\\nThe winter storm-king sigh.\\n146\\nI", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0178.jp2"}, "173": {"fulltext": "THE NOBLEST SERVICE\\nDR. WYCKLIFFE SMITH LATE SURGEON 161ST REG-\\nIMENT IND. VOLS., DELPHI, DEC. 29, 1899\\nIf all his mourning friends unselfishly\\nMight speak, high over grief, in one accord,\\nWhat voice of joy were lifted to the Lord\\nFor having lent our need such ministry\\nAs this man s life has ever proved to be!\\nYea, even through battle-crash of gun and sword\\nHis steadfast step still found the pathway toward\\nThe noblest service paid Humanity.\\nO ye to whose rich firesides he has brought\\nA richer light O watcher at the door\\nOf the lone cabin! O kindred! Comrades! all!\\nSince universal good he dreamed and wrought.\\nBe brave, to pleasure him, as, on before.\\nHe leads us, answering Glory s highest call.\\n10 147", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0179.jp2"}, "174": {"fulltext": "THE OLD GUITAR\\nNeglected now is the old guitar\\nAnd moldering into decay\\nFretted with many a rift and scar\\nThat the dull dust hides away,\\nWhile the spider spins a silver star\\nIn its silent lips to-day.\\nThe keys hold only nerveless strings\\nThe sinews of brave old airs\\nAre pulseless now and the scarf that clings\\nSo closely here declares\\nA sad regret in its ravelings\\nAnd the faded hue it wears.\\nBut the old guitar, with a lenient grace,\\nHas cherished a smile for me;\\nAnd its features hint of a fairer face\\nThat comes with a memory\\nOf a flower-and-perfume-haunted place\\nAnd a moonlit balcony.\\n148", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0180.jp2"}, "175": {"fulltext": "THE OLD GUITAR\\nMusic sweeter than words confess\\nOr the minstrel s powers invent,\\nThrilled here once at the light caress\\nOf the fairy hands that lent\\nThis excuse for the kiss I press\\nOn the dear old instrument.\\nThe rose of pearl with the jeweled stem\\nStill blooms and the tiny sets\\nIn the circle all are here the gem\\nIn the keys, and the silver frets\\nBut the dainty fingers that danced o er them-\\nAlas for the heart s regrets!\\nAlas for the loosened strings to-day,\\nAnd the wounds of rift and scar\\nOn a worn old heart, with its roundelay\\nEnthralled with a stronger bar\\nThat Fate weaves on, through a dull decay\\nLike that of the old guitar!\\n149", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0181.jp2"}, "176": {"fulltext": "AN IDIOT\\nI m on y thist a idiot\\nThat s what folks calls a feller what\\nAin t got no mind\\nOf any kind,\\nNer don t know nothin he s forgot.\\nI m one o them But I know why\\nThe bees buzz this way when they fly,\\nCause honey it gits on their wings.\\nAin t thumbs and fingers funny things?\\nWhat s money? Hooh! it s thist a hole\\nPunched in a round thing at won t roll\\nCause they s a string\\nPoked through the thing\\nAnd fastened round your neck that s all!\\nEf I could git my money off,\\nI d buy whole lots o whoopin -cough\\nAnd give it to the boy next door\\nWho died cause he ain t got no more.\\n150", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0182.jp2"}, "177": {"fulltext": "AN IDIOT\\nWhat is it when you die? /know,\\nYou can t wake up ag in, ner go\\nTo sleep no more\\nNer kick, ner snore,\\nNer lay and look and watch it snow\\nAnd when folks slaps and pinches you\\nYou don t keer nothin what they do.\\nNo honey on the angels^ wings\\nAin t thumbs and fingers funny things?\\n151", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0183.jp2"}, "178": {"fulltext": "THE ENDURING\\nA MISTY memory faint, far away\\nAnd vague and dim as childhood s long-lost day\\nForever haunts and holds me with a spell\\nOf awe and wonder indefinable:\\nA grimy old engraving tacked upon\\nA shoeshop wall. An ancient temple, drawn\\nOf crumbling granite, sagging portico\\nAnd gray, forbidding gateway, grim as woe\\nAnd o er the portal, cut in antique line,\\nThe words cut likewise in this brain of mine\\nWouldst have a friend? Wouldst know what\\nfriend is best?\\nHave GOD thy friend: He passeth all the\\nrest.\\nAgain the old shoemaker pounds and pounds\\nResentfully, as the loud laugh resounds\\nAnd the coarse jest is bandied round the throng\\nThat smokes about the smoldering stove and long.", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0184.jp2"}, "179": {"fulltext": "THE ENDURING\\nTempestuous disputes arise, and then\\nEven as all like discords die again\\nThe while a barefoot boy more gravely heeds\\nThe quaint old picture, and tiptoeing reads\\nThere in the rainy gloom the legend o er\\nThe lowering portal of the old church door\\nWouldst have a friend? Wouldst know what\\nfriend is best?\\nHave GOD thy friend: He passeth all the\\nrest.\\nSo older older older, year by year,\\nThe boy has grown, that now, an old man here,\\nHe seems a part of Allegory, where\\nHe stands before Life as the old print there\\nStill awed, and marveling what light must be\\nHid by the door that bars Futurity:\\nThough, ever clearer than with eyes of youth.\\nHe reads with his old eyes and tears forsooth\\nWouldst have a friend? Wouldst know what\\nfriend is best?\\nHave GOD thy friend: He passeth all the\\nrest.", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0185.jp2"}, "180": {"fulltext": "THE HIRED MAN S FAITH IN CHIL-\\nDREN\\nI BELIEVE all childern s good,\\nEf they re only understood^\\nEven bad ones, pears to me,\\nS jes as good as they kin be\\n154", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0188.jp2"}, "181": {"fulltext": "THE NATURALIST\\nOLIVER DAVIE\\nIn gentlest worship has he bowed\\nTo Nature. Rescued from the crowd\\nAnd din of town and thoroughfare,\\nHe turns him from all worldly care\\nUnto the sacred fastness of\\nThe forests, and the peace and love\\nThat breathes there prayer-like in the breeze\\nAnd coo of doves in dreamful trees\\nTheir tops in laps of sunshine laid,\\nTheir lower boughs all slaked with shade.\\nWith head uncovered has he stood.\\nHearing the Spirit of the Wood\\nHearing aright the Master speak\\nIn trill of bird, and warbling creek;\\nIn lisp of reeds, or rainy sigh\\nOf grasses as the loon darts by", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0189.jp2"}, "182": {"fulltext": "THE NATURALIST\\nHearing aright the storm and kill,\\nAnd all earth s voices wonderful,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nEven this hail an unknown friend\\nLifts will he hear and comprehend.\\n156", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0190.jp2"}, "183": {"fulltext": "AT CROWN HILL\\nLeave him here in the fresh greening grasses and\\ntrees\\nAnd the symbols of love, and the solace of these\\nThe saintly white lilies and blossoms he keeps\\nIn endless caress as he breathlessly sleeps.\\nThe tears of our eyes wrong the scene of his rest,\\nFor the sky s at its clearest the sun s at its best\\nThe earth at its greenest its wild bud-and-bloom\\nAt its sweetest and sweetest its honied perfume.\\nHome! home! Leave him here in his lordly\\nestate.\\nAnd with never a tear as we turn from the gate\\nTurn back to the home that will know him no\\nmore,\\nThe vines at the window the sun through the\\ndoor.", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0191.jp2"}, "184": {"fulltext": "AT CROWN HILL\\nNor sound of his voice, nor the light of his face\\nBut the birds will sing on, and the rose, in his\\nplace.\\nWill tenderly smile till we daringly feign\\nHe is home with us still, though the tremulous rain\\nOf our tears reappear, and again all is gloom,\\nAnd all prayerless we sob in the long-darkened\\nroom.\\nHeaven portions it thus the old mystery dim,\\nIt is midnight to us\u00e2\u0080\u0094 it is morning to him.\\n158", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0192.jp2"}, "185": {"fulltext": "THE BED\\n**Thou, of all God s gifts the best,\\nBlessed Bed! I muse, and rest\\nThinking how it havened me\\nIn my dazed Infancy\\nEre mine eyes could bear the kind\\nDaylight through the window-blind.\\nOr my lips, in yearning quest.\\nGroping found the mother-breast.\\nOr mine utterance but owned\\nMinor sounds that sobbed and moaned.\\nII\\nGracious Bed that nestled me\\nEven ere the mother s knee,\\nLulling me to slumber ere\\nConscious of my treasure there\\n159", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0193.jp2"}, "186": {"fulltext": "THE BED\\nSave the tiny palms that kept\\nFondling, even as I slept,\\nThat rare dual-wealth of mine,\\nSoftest pillow sweetest wine!\\nGentlest cheer for mortal guest,\\nAnd of Love s fare lordliest.\\nIll\\n^y thy grace, O Bed, the first\\nBlooms of Boyhood-memories burst:\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nDreams of riches, swift withdrawn\\nAs I, wakening, find the dawn\\nWith its glad Spring-face once more\\nGlimmering on me as of yore\\nThen the bluebird s limpid cry\\nLulls me like a lullaby.\\nTill falls every failing sense\\nBack to sleep s sheer impotence.\\nIV\\nOr, a truant, home again,\\nWith the moonlight through the pane,\\n1 60", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0194.jp2"}, "187": {"fulltext": "THE BED\\nAnd the kiss that ends the prayer-\\nThen the footsteps down the stair;\\nAnd the close hush and far click\\nOf the old clock and the thick\\nSweetness of the locust-bloom\\nDrugging all the enchanted room\\nInto darkness fathoms deep\\nAs mine own pure childish sleep.\\nGift and spell, O Bed, retell\\nEvery lovely miracle\\nUp from childhood s simplest dream\\nUnto manhood s pride supreme!\\nSacredness no words express,\\nLo, the young wife s fond caress\\nOf her first-born, while beside\\nBends the husband, tearful-eyed,\\nMarveling of kiss and prayer\\nWhich of these is holier there.\\ni6i", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0195.jp2"}, "188": {"fulltext": "THE BED\\nVI\\nTrace the vigils through the long,\\nLong nights, when the cricket s song\\nStunned the sick man s fevered brain.\\nAs he tossed and moaned in pain\\nPiteous till thou, O Bed,\\nSmoothed the pillows for his head,\\nAnd thy soothest solace laid\\nRound him, and his fever weighed\\nInto slumber deep and cool.\\nAnd divinely merciful.\\nVII\\nThus, O Bed, all gratefully\\nI would ever sing of thee\\nTill the final sleep shall fall\\nO er me, and the crickets call\\nIn the grasses where at last\\nI am indolently cast\\nLike a play- worn boy at will.\\nTis a Bed befriends me still\\nYea, and Bed, belike, the best,\\nSoftest, safest, blessedest.\\n162", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0196.jp2"}, "189": {"fulltext": "THEM OLD CHEERY WORDS\\nPap he alius ust to say,\\nChris mus comes but onc t a year!\\nLiked to hear him that-a-way,\\nIn his old split-bottomed cheer\\nBy the fireplace here at night\\nWood all in, and room all bright,\\nWarm and snug, and folks all here\\nChris mus comes but onc t a year!\\nMe and Lize, and Warr n and Jess\\nAnd Eldory home fer two\\nWeeks vacation and, I guess.\\nOld folks tickled through and through.\\nSame as w^ was, Home onc t more\\nFer another Ghris mus shore!\\nPap u d say, and tilt his cheer,\\nChris mus comes but onc t a year!\\nII 163", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0197.jp2"}, "190": {"fulltext": "THEM OLD CHEERY WORDS\\nMostly Pap was ap to be\\nSer ous in his daily walk,\\nAs he called it giner ly\\nWas no hand to joke er talk.\\nFac s is, Pap had never be n\\nRugged-like at all and then\\nThree years in the army had\\nHepped to break him purty bad.\\nHqyqy flinched but frost and snow\\nHurt his wownd in winter. But\\nYou bet Mother knowed it, though!\\nWatched his feet, and made him putt\\nOn his flannen; and his knee.\\nWhere it never healed up, he\\nClaimed was well now mighty near\\nChris mus comes but onc t a year!\\nChris mus comes but onc t a year!\\nPap u d say, and snap his eyes\\nRow o apples sputter n here\\nRound the hearth, and me and Lize\\n164", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0198.jp2"}, "191": {"fulltext": "THEM OLD CHEERY WORDS\\nCrackin hicker -nuts and Warr n\\nAnd Eldory parchin corn\\nAnd whole raft o young folks here.\\nChris mus comes but onc t a year!\\nMother tuk most comfort in\\nJest a-heppin Pap: She d fill\\nHis pipe fer him, er his tin\\nO hard cider; er set still\\nAnd read fer him out the pile\\nO newspapers putt on file\\nWhilse he was with Sherman (She\\nKnowed the whole war-history\\nSometimes he d git het up some.\\nBoys, he d say, and you girls, too,\\nChris mus is about to come\\nSo, as you ve a right to do,\\nCelebrate it! Lots has died,\\nSame as Him they crucified,\\nThat you might be happy here.\\nChris mus comes but onc t a year!*\\n165", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0199.jp2"}, "192": {"fulltext": "THEM OLD CHEERY WORDS\\nMissed his voice last Chris mus missed\\nThem old cheery words, you know.\\nMother helt up tel she kissed\\nAll of us then had to go\\nAnd break down! And I laughs: Here!\\nChris mus comes but onc t a year!\\nThem s his very words, sobbed she,\\nWhen he asked to marry me.\\nChris mus comes but onc t a year!\\nChris mus comes but onc t a year!\\nOver, over, still I hear,\\nChris mus comes but onc t a year!\\nYit, like him, I m goin to smile\\nAnd keep cheerful all the while\\nAlius Chris mus There And here\\nChris mus comes but onc t a year!\\n166", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0200.jp2"}, "193": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0201.jp2"}, "194": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0202.jp2"}, "195": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0203.jp2"}, "196": {"fulltext": "^^0^ ^OHO^", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0204.jp2"}, "197": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0205.jp2"}, "198": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3213", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "homefolks01rile_0206.jp2"}}