Few lives have left so vivid an impression upon a native
environment asthat of James Whitcomb Riley, the Hoosier Poet. His
folksy, down-home rhymes arestill enormously popular in his native
state and beyond. This publication bringsback into print the
complete Riley repertoire of more than 1,000 poems, includingsuch
all-time favorites as "Little Orphant Annie" (far and away
thebest-loved of all Riley characters), "The Raggedy Man," "Our
HiredGirl," "A Barefoot Boy," "The Bumblebee,""Granny," and "When
the Frost Is on the Punkin."
It issaid that Indiana's best-known poet did not portray but
invented the typicalHoosier. Applying imaginative skill, Riley
altered and adapted the people around himto suit his purpose. As
Jeannette Covert Nolan once put it, the figure who emergedwas "a
mellow, humorous rustic, a quaint, bucolic philosopher, unlettered
butgifted with an earthy shrewdness, a peasant wisdom, a heart of
gold, speaking adrawling, hybrid tongue, a dubious dialect as yet
unidentified by anyphilologist."
In his heyday Riley was famous all over the world.Though often
called a children's poet, he actually wrote about children for
adults, delighting in emotional reminders of an irretrievable past
-- perhaps one that neverquite existed. Throughout his life Riley
looked back wistfully and sentimentallyupon his childhood days,
turning the longings and unfulfilled dreams of youth intoverse. So
celebrated was he in Indiana that in many public elementary
schools, students were required to memorize and recite one of his
poems every week foradmiring audiences of visiting parents.
If I Knew What PoetsKnow
If I knew what poets know, Did I know what poets do, If I knew
whatpoets know,
Would I write a rhyme Would I sing a song, I would find
atheme
Of the buds that never blow Sadder than the pigeon's coo Sweeter
thanthe placid flow
In the summer-time? When the days are long? Of the
fairestdream:
Would I sing of golden seeds Where I found a heart in pain, I
wouldsing of love that lives
Springing up in ironweeds? I would make it gladagain; On the errors
it forgives:
And of rain-drop turned to snow, And thefalse should be the true,
And the world would better grow
If I knew whatpoets know? Did I know what poets do. If I knew what
poets know.
-- JamesWhitcomb Riley
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