The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley/Volume 1/A Backward Look

by James Whitcomb Riley

The Complete Works
of James Whitcomb Riley

A BACKWARD LOOK

As I sat smoking, alone, yesterday,And lazily leaning back in my chair,Enjoying myself in a general way—Allowing my thoughts a holidayFrom weariness, toil and care,—My fancies—doubtless, for ventilation—Left ajar the gates of my mind,—And Memory, seeing the situation,Slipped out in the street of "Auld Lang Syne."—

Wandering ever with tireless feetThrough scenes of silence, and jubileeOf long-hushed voices; and faces sweetWere thronging the shadowy side of the streetAs far as the eye could see;Dreaming again, in anticipation,The same old dreams of our boyhood's daysThat never come true, from the vague sensationOf walking asleep in the world's strange ways.

Away to the house where I was born!And there was the selfsame clock that tickedFrom the close of dusk to the burst of morn,When life-warm hands plucked the golden cornAnd helped when the apples were picked.And the "chany dog" on the mantel-shelf,With the gilded collar and yellow eyes,Looked just as at first, when I hugged myselfSound asleep with the dear surprise.

And down to the swing in the locust-tree,Where the grass was worn from the trampled ground,And where "Eck" Skinner, "Old" Carr, and threeOr four such other boys used to be"Doin' sky-scrapers," or "whirlin' round":And again Bob climbed for the bluebird's nest,And again "had shows" in the buggy-shedOf Guymon's barn, where still, unguessed,The old ghosts romp through the best days dead!

And again I gazed from the old schoolroomWith a wistful look, of a long June day,When on my cheek was the hectic bloomCaught of Mischief, as I presume—He had such a "partial" way,It seemed, toward me.—And again I thoughtOf a probable likelihood to beKept in after school—for a girl was caughtCatching a note from me.

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And down through the woods to the swimming-hole—Where the big, white, hollow old sycamore grows,—And we never cared when the water was cold,And always "ducked" the boy that toldOn the fellow that tied the clothes.—When life went so like a dreamy rhyme,That it seems to me now that thenThe world was having a jollier timeThan it ever will have again.