Poetry Explorer


Classic and Contemporary Poetry


GRIGGSBY'S STATION by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY

Poet Analysis

First Line: PAP'S GOT HIS PATTENT-RIGHT, AND RICH AS ALL CREATION
Last Line: BACK WHERE WE UST TO BE SO HAPPY AND SO PORE!

PAP'S got his patent right, and rich as all crea-
tion;
But where's the peace and comfort that we all
had before?
Le's go a-visitin' back to Griggsby's Station --
Back where we ust to be so happy and so pore!

The likes of us a-livin' here! It's just a mortal
pity
To see us in this great big house, with cyarpets
on the stairs,
And the pump right in the kitchen! And the
city! city! city! --
And nothin' but the city all around us ever'-
wheres!

Climb clean above the roof and look from the
steeple,
And never see a robin, nor a beech or churn
tree!
And right here in ear-shot of at least a thousan'
people,
And none that neighbors with us, or we want to
go and see!

Le's to a-visitin' back to Griggsby's Station --
Back where the latch-string's a-hangin' from
the door,
And ever' neighbor 'round the place is dear as a
relation --
Back where we ust to be so happy and so pore!

I want to see the Wiggenses, the whole kit and
bilin'
A-drivin' up from Shallot Ford to stay the Sun-
day through;
And I want to see 'em hitchin' at their son-in-
law's and pilin'
Out there at 'Lizy Ellen's like they ust to do!

I want to see the piece-quilts the Jones girls is
makin';
And I want to pester Laury 'bout their freckled
hired hand,
And joke her 'bout the widower she come purt'
nigh a-takin',
Till her pap got his pension 'lowed in time to
save his land.

Le's go a-visitin' back to Griggsby's station --
Back where they's nothin' aggervatin' any-
more;
Shet away safe in the woods around the old loca-
tion --
Back where we ust to be so happy and so pore!

I want to see Marindy and he'p her with her
sewin',
And hear her talk so lovin' of her man that's
dead and gone,
And stand up with Emanuel to show me how he's
growin',
And smile as I have saw her 'fore she put her
mournin' on.

And I want to see the Samples, on the old lower
eighty --
Where John our oldest boy, he was tuk and
buried -- for
His own sake and Katy's -- and I want to cry
with Katy
As she reads all his letters over, writ from The
War.

What's all this grand life and high situation,
And nary pink nor hollyhawk bloomin' at the
door? --
Le's go a-visitin' back to Griggsby's Station --
Back where we ust to be so happy and so pore!



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