Old Indiany. Intended For A Dinner Of The Indiana Society Of Chicago Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDEE FFGGHHIIJJKKLLMMNNHH OPHHHHQQRRSTUUHHVVWW XXHH YBBZZFFHHOld Indiany 'course we know | A |
Is first and best and most also | A |
Of all the States' whole forty four | B |
She's first in ever'thing that's shore | B |
And best in ever'way as yet | C |
Made known to man and you kin bet | C |
She's most because she won't confess | D |
She ever was or will be less | D |
And yet fer all her proud array | E |
Of sons how many gits away | E |
- | |
No doubt about her bein' great | F |
But fellers she's a leaky State | F |
And them that boasts the most about | G |
Her them's the ones that's dribbled out | G |
Law jes' to think of all you boys | H |
'Way over here in Illinoise | H |
A celebratin' like ye air | I |
Old Indiany 'way back there | I |
In the dark ages so to speak | J |
A prayin' for ye once a week | J |
And wonderin' what's a keepin' you | K |
From comin' like you ort to do | K |
You're all a lookin' well and like | L |
You wasn't sidin' up the pike | L |
As the tramp shoemaker said | M |
When he sacked the boss and shed | M |
The blame town to hunt fer one | N |
Where they didn't work fer fun | N |
Lookin' extry well I'd say | H |
Your old home so fur away | H |
- | |
Maybe though like the old jour | O |
Fun hain't all yer workin' fer | P |
So you've found a job that pays | H |
Better than in them old days | H |
You was on The Weekly Press | H |
Heppin' run things more er less | H |
Er a learnin' telegraph | Q |
Operatin' with a half | Q |
Notion of the tinner's trade | R |
Er the dusty man's that laid | R |
Out designs on marble and | S |
Hacked out little lambs by hand | T |
And chewed finecut as he wrought | U |
Shapin' from his bitter thought | U |
Some squshed mutterings to say | H |
Yes hard work and porer pay | H |
Er you'd kind o' thought the far | V |
Gazin' kuss that owned a car | V |
And took pictures in it had | W |
Jes' the snap you wanted bad | W |
And you even wondered why | X |
He kep' foolin' with his sky | X |
Light the same on shiny days | H |
As when rainin' 'T leaked always | H |
- | |
Wondered what strange things was hid | Y |
In there when he shet the door | B |
And smelt like a burnt drug store | B |
Next some orchard trees i swan | Z |
With whole roasted apples on | Z |
That's why Ade is here of late | F |
Buyin' in the dear old state | F |
So's to cut it up in plots | H |
Of both town and country lots | H |
James Whitcomb Riley
(1)
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