A Spray of Kentucky Pine | Page 4

"Old Swimmin' Hole"
Oh! the old swimmin' hole! whare the crick so still and deep Looked
like a baby-river that was laying half asleep,
And the gurgle of the
worter round the drift jest below
Sounded like the laugh of something
we onc't ust to know
Before we could remember anything but the
eyes
Of the angels lookin' out as we left Paradise;
But the merry
days of youth is beyond our controle,
And its hard to part ferever
with the old swimmin'-hole.
Oh! the old swimmin'-hole! In the happy days of yore,
When I ust to
lean above it on the old sickamore.
Oh! it showed me a face in its
warm sunny tide
That gazed back at me so gay and glorified,
It
made me love myself, as I leaped to caress
My shadder smilin' up at
me with sich tenderness.
But them days is past and gone, and old
Time's tuck his toll From the old man come back to the old
swimmin'-hole.
Oh! the old swimmin'-hole! In the long, lazy days
When the
humdrum of school made so many run-a-ways.
How plesant was the
jurney down the old dusty lane,
Whare the tracks of our bare feet was
all printed so plane You could tell by the dent of the heel and the sole

They was lot o' fun on hands at the old swimmin'-hole.
But the lost

joys is past! Let your tears in sorrow roll
Like the rain that ust to
dapple up the old swimmin'-hole.
Thare the bullrushes growed, and the cattails so tall,
And the sunshine
and shadder fell over it all;
And it mottled the worter with amber and
gold
Tel the glad lilies rocked in the ripples that rolled;
And the
snake-feeder's four gauzy wings fluttered by
Like the ghost of a daisy
dropped out of the sky,
Or a wownded apple-blossom in the breeze's
controle
As it cut acrost some orchurd to'rds the old swimmin'-hole.
Oh! the old swimmin'-hole! When I last saw the place,
The scenes
was all changed, like the change in my face;
The bridge of the
railroad now crosses the spot
Whare the old divin'-log lays sunk and
fergot.
And I stray down the banks whare the trees ust to be--
But
never again will theyr shade shelter me!
And I wish in my sorrow I
could strip to the soul.
And dive off in my grave like the old
swimmin'-hole.
Their little jaws dropped!
Their little eyes distended!
Their little
ears stood erect!
They fairly bristled with an intense attention.
You said the last word,
of the last line.
Then--absolute, unbroken--Silence!
Finally--but
without another word--you reached
down, patted the youngest one on
his wet curly Locks.
The Wizard whispered to the driver "Go."
As
the team, in a brisk trot, started away.
you, still standing, coatless,
hatless, waved your
hand--in that quick little jerky fashion peculiar

to you--to those little naked Urchins.
With a mighty Shout, they ran
back to the Pool,
and gave a rapid-firing Exhibition of the Single

Dive; the Double Dive; and one--a dare-devil--the Triple Dive! What a
Memory, what a Priceless Memory, you must
have given those Boys
of Martinsville, that Ideal
Summer Afternoon, in the Long While Ago!

Martinsville! To you of Blessed Memory!
For the sake of an early,
enduring, Friendship,
did you not encrust one Jap Miller of


Martinsville with no mean verse?
And did it not run something like
this?
Jap Miller down at Martinsville's the blamedest feller yit! When he
starts in a-talkin' other folks is apt to quit!-- 'Pears like that mouth o'
his'n wuzn't made fer nothin' else But jes' to argify 'em down and gether
in their pelts:
He'll talk you down on tariff; er he'll talk you down on
tax. And prove the pore man pays 'em all and them's about the fac's!
Religen, law, er politics, prize-fightin', er base-ball
Jes' tetch Jap up a
little and he'll post you 'bout 'em all.

W'y, that-air blame Jap Miller, with his keen sircastic fun, Has got
more friends than ary candidate 'at ever run!
Don't matter what his
views is, when he states the same to you, They allus coincide with
your'n, the same as two and two: You can't take issue with him--er, at
least, they haint no sense In startin' in to down him, so you better not
commence.-- The best way's jes' to listen, like your humble servant
does. And jes' concede Jap Miller is the best man ever wuz!
On the drive back to the little Station, you were
the Man, the Poet,
but not the Mystic!
You delighted the Wizard with your genial
flow
of Verse, of Story.
When the watchful Wizard, smuggled you aboard

your train--with privacy unbroken you, like
King Saul, returned to
your People, refreshed in body,
restored in mind; for had not the
Wizard done for you,
as David did for Saul, for had not he brought
Peace
to your no longer Troubled Soul?
Did he not say to you, in
parting, "All Is Well With You?"
O! James Whitcomb Riley!
It is late in the Afternoon, of a Perfect
Summer Day.
This Man From Down On The Farm,
is standing on