 | The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley |  |
1779
II
The farmer came in the evening gray
And took the bars of the pasture down;
Called to the cows in a coaxing way,
“Bess” and “Lady” and “Spot” and “Brown,”
While each gazed with a wide-eyed stare,
As though surprised at his coming there—
Till another tone, in a higher key,
Brought their obeyance loathfully.
And took the bars of the pasture down;
Called to the cows in a coaxing way,
“Bess” and “Lady” and “Spot” and “Brown,”
While each gazed with a wide-eyed stare,
As though surprised at his coming there—
Till another tone, in a higher key,
Brought their obeyance loathfully.
Then, as he slowly turned and swung
The topmost bar to its proper rest,
Something fluttered along and clung
An instant, shivering at his breast—
A wind-scared fragment of legal cap
Which darted again, as he struck his hand
On his sounding chest with a sudden slap,
And hurried sailing across the land.
But as it clung he had caught the glance
Of a little penciled countenance,
And a glamour of written words; and hence,
A minute later, over the fence,
“Here and there and gone astray
Over the hills and far away,”
He chased it into a thicket of trees
And took it away from the captious breeze.
The topmost bar to its proper rest,
Something fluttered along and clung
An instant, shivering at his breast—
A wind-scared fragment of legal cap
Which darted again, as he struck his hand
On his sounding chest with a sudden slap,
And hurried sailing across the land.
But as it clung he had caught the glance
Of a little penciled countenance,
And a glamour of written words; and hence,
A minute later, over the fence,
“Here and there and gone astray
Over the hills and far away,”
He chased it into a thicket of trees
And took it away from the captious breeze.
A scrap of paper with a rhyme
Scrawled upon it of summer-time:
A pencil-sketch of a dairymaid,
Under a farmhouse porch's shade,
Working merrily; and was blent
With her glad features such sweet content,
That a song she sang in the lines below
Seemed delightfully apropos:—
Scrawled upon it of summer-time:
A pencil-sketch of a dairymaid,
Under a farmhouse porch's shade,
1780
With her glad features such sweet content,
That a song she sang in the lines below
Seemed delightfully apropos:—
SONG
“Why do I sing—Tra-la-la-la-la!
Glad as a King?—Tra-la-la-la-la!
Well, since you ask,—
I have such a pleasant task,
I can not help but sing!
Glad as a King?—Tra-la-la-la-la!
Well, since you ask,—
I have such a pleasant task,
I can not help but sing!
“Why do I smile—Tra-la-la-la-la!
Working the while?—Tra-la-la-la-la!
Work like this is play,—
So I'm playing all the day—
I can not help but smile!
Working the while?—Tra-la-la-la-la!
Work like this is play,—
So I'm playing all the day—
I can not help but smile!
“So, if you please—Tra-la-la-la-la!
Live at your ease!—Tra-la-la-la-la!
You've only got to turn,
And, you see, it's bound to churn—
It can not help but please!”
Live at your ease!—Tra-la-la-la-la!
You've only got to turn,
And, you see, it's bound to churn—
It can not help but please!”
The farmer pondered and scratched his head,
Reading over each mystic word.—
“Some o' The Dreamer's work!” he said—
“Ah, here's more—and name and date
In his handwrite'!”—And the good man read,—
“‘Patent applied for, July third,
Eighteen hundred and forty-eight’!”
The fragment fell from his nerveless grasp—
His awed lips thrilled with the joyous gasp:
“I see the p'int to the whole concern,—
He's studied out a patent churn!”
Reading over each mystic word.—
“Some o' The Dreamer's work!” he said—
“Ah, here's more—and name and date
In his handwrite'!”—And the good man read,—
“‘Patent applied for, July third,
Eighteen hundred and forty-eight’!”
The fragment fell from his nerveless grasp—
His awed lips thrilled with the joyous gasp:
“I see the p'int to the whole concern,—
He's studied out a patent churn!”
| The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley | |