1.
Continuous, unflagging effort, persistence and determination will win. Let not the man be discouraged who has these.
James Whitcomb Riley
2.
The most essential factor is persistence - the determination never to allow your energy or enthusiasm to be dampened by the discouragement that must inevitably come.
James Whitcomb Riley
3.
To make the world a friendly place, one must show it a friendly face.
James Whitcomb Riley
4.
The ripest peach is highest on the tree
James Whitcomb Riley
5.
Tell you what I like the best -
'Long about knee-deep in June,
'Bout the time strawberries melts
On the vine, - some afternoon
Like to jes' git out and rest,
And not work at nothin' else!
James Whitcomb Riley
6.
The jelly - the jam and the marmalade, And the cherry-and quince-'preserves' she made! And the sweet-sour pickles of peach and pear, With cinnamon in 'em, and all things rare! And the more we ate was the more to spare, Out to old Aunt Mary's! Ah!
James Whitcomb Riley
7.
I love the horse from hoof to head. From head to hoof and tail to mane. I love the horse as I have said - From head to hoof and back again.
James Whitcomb Riley
8.
But the air's so appetizin'; and the landscape through the haze Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days Is a pictur' that no painter has the colorin' to mock-When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.
James Whitcomb Riley
9.
Think of him still as the same, I say, He is not dead, he is just - away.
James Whitcomb Riley
10.
I cannot say, and I will not say
That he is dead. He is just away.
With a cheery smile, and a wave of the hand,
He has wandered into an unknown land
And left us dreaming how very fair
It needs must be, since he lingers there.
And you - oh you, who the wildest yearn
For an old-time step, and the glad return,
Think of him faring on, as dear
In the love of There as the love of Here.
Think of him still as the same. I say,
He is not dead - he is just away.
James Whitcomb Riley
11.
O, it sets my heart a clickin' like the tickin' of a clock, when the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.
James Whitcomb Riley
12.
O'er folded blooms On swirls of musk, The beetle booms adown the glooms And bumps along the dusk.
James Whitcomb Riley
13.
When you awaken some morning and hear that somebody or other has been discovered, you can put it down as a fact that he discovered himself years ago - since that time he has been toiling, working, and striving to make himself worthy of general discovery.
James Whitcomb Riley
14.
I don't know how to tell it--but ef such a thing could be
As the angels wantin' boardin', and they'd call around on me--
I'd want to 'ccommodate 'em--all the whole-in-durin' flock--
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.
James Whitcomb Riley
15.
As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone,
And muses on the faces of the friends that he has known,
So I turn the leaves of Fancy, till in shadowy design
I find the smiling features of an old sweetheart of mine.
James Whitcomb Riley
16.
And the sun had on a crown
Wrought of gilded thistledown,
And a scarf of velvet vapor
And a raveled rainbow gown;
And his tinsel-tangled hair
Tossed and lost upon the air
Was glossier and flossier
Than any anywhere.
James Whitcomb Riley
17.
It is no use to grumble and complain; It's just as cheap and easy to rejoice; When God sorts out the weather and sends rain - Why, rain's my choice.
James Whitcomb Riley
18.
One naked star has waded through
The purple shallows of the night,
And faltering as falls the dew
It drips its misty light.
James Whitcomb Riley
19.
Somebody's sent a funny little valentine to me. It's a bunch of baby-roses in a vase of filigree, And hovering above them ... is a fairy cupid tangled in a scarf of poetry.
James Whitcomb Riley
20.
Long about knee-deep in June,
'Bout the time strewberries melts
On the vine.
James Whitcomb Riley
21.
Oh, the world's a curious compound, with its honey and its gall, With its cares and bitter crosses, but a good world after all. And a good God must have made it-leastways, that is what I say, When a hand is on my shoulder in a friendly sort of way.
James Whitcomb Riley
22.
Who bides his time tastes the sweet Of honey in the saltiest tear; And though he fares with slowest feet Joy runs to meet him drawing near.
James Whitcomb Riley
23.
Just a wee cot-the crickets chirr-love and the smiling face of her.
James Whitcomb Riley
24.
He is not dead, he is just - away.
James Whitcomb Riley