Public Domain Poetry And Stories - My Dancin'-Days Is Over by James Whitcomb Riley
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My Dancin'-Days Is Over

    By James Whitcomb Riley



    What is it in old fiddle-chunes 'at makes me ketch my breath
    And ripples up my backbone tel I'm tickled most to death? -
    Kindo' like that sweet-sick feelin', in the long sweep of a swing,
    The first you ever swung in, with yer first sweet-heart, i jing! -
    Yer first picnic - yer first ice-cream - yer first o' ever'thing
        'At happened 'fore yer dancin'-days wuz over!

    I never understood it - and I s'pose I never can, -
    But right in town here, yisterd'y, I heerd a pore blindman
    A-fiddlin' old "Gray Eagle" - And-sir! I jes stopped my load
    O' hay and listened at him - yes, and watched the way he "bow'd," -
    And back I went, plum forty year', with boys and girls I knowed
        And loved, long 'fore my dancin'-days wuz over! -

    At high noon in yer city, - with yer blame Magnetic-Cars
    A-hummin' and a-screetchin' past - and bands and G.A.R.'s
    A-marchin' - and fire-ingines. - All the noise, the whole street through,
    Wuz lost on me! - I only heerd a whipperwill er two,
    It 'peared-like, kindo' callin' 'crost the darkness and the dew,
        Them nights afore my dancin'-days wuz over.

    T'uz Chused'y-night at Wetherell's, er We'nsd'y-night at Strawn's,
    Er Fourth-o'-July-night at uther Tomps's house er John's! -
    With old Lew Church from Sugar Crick, with that old fiddle he
    Had sawed clean through the Army, from Atlanty to the sea -
    And yit he'd fetched, her home ag'in, so's he could play fer me
        One't more afore my dancin'-days wuz over!

    The woods 'at's all ben cut away wuz growin' same as then;
    The youngsters all wuz boys ag'in 'at's now all oldish men;
    And all the girls 'at then wuz girls - I saw 'em, one and all,
    As plain as then - the middle-sized, the short-and-fat, and tall -
    And, 'peared-like, I danced "Tucker" fer 'em up and down the wall
        Jes like afore my dancin' days wuz over!

            *        *        *        *        *

    Yer po-leece they can holler "Say! you, Uncle! drive ahead! -
    You can't use all the right-o'-way!" - fer that wuz what they said! -
    But, jes the same, - in spite of all 'at you call "interprise
    And prog-gress of you-folks Today," we're all of fambly-ties -
    We're all got feelin's fittin' fer the tears 'at's in our eyes
        Er the smiles afore our dancin'-days is over.



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