 | The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley |  |
475
TOMMY SMITH
Dimple-cheeked and rosy-lipped,
With his cap-rim backward tipped,
Still in fancy I can see
Little Tommy smile on me—
Little Tommy Smith.
With his cap-rim backward tipped,
Still in fancy I can see
Little Tommy smile on me—
Little Tommy Smith.
Little unsung Tommy Smith—
Scarce a name to rhyme it with;
Yet most tenderly to me
Something sings unceasingly—
Little Tommy Smith.
Scarce a name to rhyme it with;
Yet most tenderly to me
Something sings unceasingly—
Little Tommy Smith.
On the verge of some far land
Still forever does he stand,
With his cap-rim rakishly
Tilted; so he smiles on me—
Little Tommy Smith.
Still forever does he stand,
With his cap-rim rakishly
Tilted; so he smiles on me—
Little Tommy Smith.
Elder-blooms contrast the grace
Of the rover's radiant face—
Whistling back, in mimicry,
“Old—Bob—White!” all liquidly—
Little Tommy Smith.
Of the rover's radiant face—
Whistling back, in mimicry,
“Old—Bob—White!” all liquidly—
Little Tommy Smith.
476
O my jaunty statuette
Of first love, I see you yet,
Though you smile so mistily,
It is but through tears I see,
Little Tommy Smith.
Of first love, I see you yet,
Though you smile so mistily,
It is but through tears I see,
Little Tommy Smith.
But, with crown tipped back behind,
And the glad hand of the wind
Smoothing back your hair, I see
Heaven's best angel smile on me,—
Little Tommy Smith.
And the glad hand of the wind
Smoothing back your hair, I see
Heaven's best angel smile on me,—
Little Tommy Smith.
| The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley | |