Classic and Contemporary Poetry
A BACKWARD LOOK, by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: As I sat smoking, alone, yesterday Last Line: Than it ever will have again. Alternate Author Name(s): Johnson Of Boone, Benj. F. Subject(s): Life; Memory; Smoking; Tobacco; Pipes; Cigars; Cigarettes | ||||||||
AS I sat smoking, alone, yesterday, And lazily leaning back in my chair, Enjoying myself in a general way -- Allowing my thoughts a holiday From 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 feet Through scenes of silence, and jubilee Of long-hushed voices; and faces sweet Were thronging the shadowy side of the street As far as the eye could see; Dreaming again, in anticipation, The same old dreams of our boyhood's days That never come true, from the vague sensation Of walking asleep in the world's strange ways. Away to the house where I was born! And there was the selfsame clock that ticked From the close of dusk to the burst of morn, When life-warm hands plucked the golden corn And helped when the apples were picked. And the "chany dog" on the mantelshelf, With the gilded collar and yellow eyes, Looked just as at first, when I hugged myself Sound 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 three Or 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-shed Of Guymon's barn, where still, unguessed, The old ghosts romp through the best days dead! And again I gazed from the old schoolroom With a wistful look, of a long June day, When on my cheek was the hectic bloom Caught of Mischief, as I presume -- He had such a "partial" way, It seemed, toward me. -- And again I thought Of a probable likelihood to be Kept in after school -- for a girl was caught Catching a note from me. 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 told On the fellow that tied the clothes. -- When life went so like a dreamy rhyme, That it seems to me now that then The world was having a jollier time Than it ever will have again. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ONE LAST DRAW OF THE PIPE by PAUL MULDOON CHANEL NO. 5 by LAURE-ANNE BOSSELAAR OLD MEN ON THE COURTHOUSE LAWN, MURRAY, KENTUCKY by JAMES GALVIN DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 2. LOS CIGARILLOS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON A BOY'S MOTHER by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY |
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