James Whitcomb Riley in prose and picture . Jim Riley — hes a-comin to Atlanta, so they say,An we hear our hearts a-hummin as they meet him on the way;For who aint heard o Riley—Jim Riley o the West,An loved his song until they long to tell him Hes the best! When a feller gets to readin him, its half a laugh an sigh,A-heavin o the heartstrings, an a-waterin o the eye;An you dream in velvet valleys, an you wade in dewy grass,While your soul takes in the twanglin of the doves wings as they pass. The world takes on more color; the springtime ismore sweet, An the dear ** old-fashioned roses seem t
James Whitcomb Riley in prose and picture . Jim Riley — hes a-comin to Atlanta, so they say,An we hear our hearts a-hummin as they meet him on the way;For who aint heard o Riley—Jim Riley o the West,An loved his song until they long to tell him Hes the best! When a feller gets to readin him, its half a laugh an sigh,A-heavin o the heartstrings, an a-waterin o the eye;An you dream in velvet valleys, an you wade in dewy grass,While your soul takes in the twanglin of the doves wings as they pass. The world takes on more color; the springtime ismore sweet, An the dear ** old-fashioned roses seem to blos-som at your feet; An you hear the farm boy singin at the ox-teamthat he drives. While the buzzin bees are bringin all the honey tothe hives! So, let him come—Jim Riley, an let him take this songOf one he knows, a wind-blown rose from them whove loved him long;Jes take it as a welcome, an wear it in his breastUntil we look him in the face an tell him ** Hes the best! —Frank L. Stanton, \^ ^ ^ ^< V Nl h n h ^ f F.
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookidjameswhitcom, bookyear1903
