When the Frost Is on the Punkin
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's inthe shock,And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin'turkey-cock,And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of thehens,And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;O, it's then's the times a feller is a-feelin' at his best,With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peacefulrest,As he leaves the house, bare-headed, and goes out to feedthe stock,When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in theshock.
They's something kindo' harty-like about the atmusfereWhen the heat of summer's over and the coolin' fall ishere--Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossums on thetrees,And the mumble of the hummin'-birds and buzzin' of thebees;But the air's so appetizin'; and the landscape through thehazeOf a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn daysIs a pictur' that no painter has the colorin' to mock--When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in theshock.
The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn,And the raspin' of the tangled leaves, as golden as themorn;The stubble in the furries--kindo' lonesome-like, but stillA-preachin' sermuns to us of the barns they growed to fill;The strawstack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed;The hosses in theyr stalls below--the clover overhead!--O, it sets my hart a-clickin' like the tickin' of a clock,When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in theshock!
Then your apples all is getherd, and the ones a feller keepsIs poured around the cellar-floor in red and yeller heaps;And your cider-makin's over, and your wimmern-folksis throughWith their mince and apple-butter, and theyr souse andsaussage, too!...I don't know how to tell it--but ef sich a thing could beAs the Angels wantin' boardin', and they'd call aroundon ME--I'd want to 'commodate 'em--all the whole-indurin'flock--When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in theshock!
Words in this poem
- gobble v. t.
- To swallow or eat greedily or hastily; to gulp. [Freq. of 2d gob.]
- feller n.
- One who, or that which, fells, knocks or cuts down; a machine for felling trees.
- mumble v. t.
- To speak with the lips partly closed, so as to render the sounds inarticulate and imperfect; to utter words in a grumbling indistinct manner, indicating discontent or displeasure; to mutter. [OE. momelen; cf. D. mompelen, mommelen, G. mummelen, Sw. mumla, Dan. mumle. Cf. Mum, a., Mumm, Mump, v.]
- sunny a.
- Of or pertaining to the sun; proceeding from, or resembling the sun; hence, shining; bright; brilliant; radiant.
- husky a.
- Abounding with husks; consisting of husks. [From Husk, n.]
- morn n.
- The first part of the day; the morning; -- used chiefly in poetry. [OE. morwen, morgen, AS. morgen; akin to D. morgen, OS. morgan, G. morgen, Icel. morginn, morgunn, Sw. morgon, Dan. morgen, Goth. maúrgins. Cf. Morrow, Morning.]
- lonesome a.
- Secluded from society; not frequented by human beings; solitary.
- folks n.
- In Anglo-Saxon times, the people of a group of townships or villages; a community; a tribe. [AS. folc; akin to D. volk, OS. & OHG. folk, G. volk, Icel. f, Sw. & Dan. folk, Lith. pulkas crowd, and perh. to E. follow.]
- mince v. t.
- To cut into very small pieces; to chop fine; to hash; as, to mince meat. [AS. minsian to grow less, dwindle, fr. min small; akin to G. minder less, Goth. minniza less, mins less, adv., L. minor, adj. (cf. Minor); or more likely fr. F.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
When the Frost Is on the Punkin is in the public domain. This text is taken from Riley Farm-Rhymes, Project Gutenberg ebook #4783; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: James Whitcomb Riley, When the Frost Is on the Punkin, in Riley Farm-Rhymes (1883–1901), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #4783, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/riley-farm-rhymes/when-the-frost-is-on-the-punkin.html, id L01948.
Form and metre
When the Frost Is on the Punkin is 50 lines in 4 stanzas. The metre is iambic heptameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 80%). 99% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 9.4 syllables. 1 line ends on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 46% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic heptameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 -A-AB--C-C-ABA in · shockA · struttin · cockA · theB · hens · fence · bestC · peaceful · restC · feed · stockA · theB · shockA
- 2 A-ABCBCBDDEBE atmusfereA · is · hereA · theB · treesC · theB · beesC · theB · hazeD · daysD · mockE · theB · shockE
- 3 ABACCDDEBE cornA · theB · mornA · stillC · fillC · shedD · overheadD · clockE · theB · shockE
- 4 AA-BCBDCD-EDE keepsA · heapsA · folks · throughB · andC · tooB · beD · aroundC · meD · indurin · flockE · theD · shockE
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic heptameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in | 13 | ······/˘··/˘· |
| the shock, | 2 | ·· |
| And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' | 12 | ······/˘···· |
| turkey-cock, | 3 | /˘· |
| And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the | 14 | ······/˘······ |
| hens, | 1 | · |
| And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence; | 14 | ··/˘·····/···· |
| O, it's then's the times a feller is a-feelin' at his best, | 15 | ······/˘··/˘··· |
| With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful | 14 | ··/˘········/˘ |
| rest, | 1 | · |
| As he leaves the house, bare-headed, and goes out to feed | 13 | ······/˘····· |
| the stock, | 2 | ·· |
| When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the | 14 | ······/˘··/˘·· |
| shock. | 1 | · |
| They's something kindo' harty-like about the atmusfere | 14 | ·/˘··/˘······· |
| When the heat of summer's over and the coolin' fall is | 14 | ····/˘········ |
| here-- | 1 | · |
| Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossums on the | 13 | ·····/˘······ |
| trees, | 1 | · |
| And the mumble of the hummin'-birds and buzzin' of the | 14 | ··/˘·········· |
| bees; | 1 | · |
| But the air's so appetizin'; and the landscape through the | 14 | ··········/··· |
| haze | 1 | · |
| Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days | 15 | ····/˘/˘····/˘· |
| Is a pictur' that no painter has the colorin' to mock-- | 15 | ······/˘······· |
| When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the | 14 | ······/˘··/˘·· |
| shock. | 1 | · |
| The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn, | 14 | ·/˘/˘/˘······· |
| And the raspin' of the tangled leaves, as golden as the | 14 | ······/˘··/˘·· |
| morn; | 1 | · |
| The stubble in the furries--kindo' lonesome-like, but still | 14 | ·/˘··/˘··/˘··· |
| A-preachin' sermuns to us of the barns they growed to fill; | 14 | ·············· |
| The strawstack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed; | 14 | ·········/˘··· |
| The hosses in theyr stalls below--the clover overhead!-- | 14 | ·/˘······/˘/˘/ |
| O, it sets my hart a-clickin' like the tickin' of a clock, | 15 | ··············· |
| When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the | 14 | ······/˘··/˘·· |
| shock! | 1 | · |
| Then your apples all is getherd, and the ones a feller keeps | 15 | ··/˘········/˘· |
| Is poured around the cellar-floor in red and yeller heaps; | 14 | ·····/˘······· |
| And your cider-makin's over, and your wimmern-folks | 13 | ··/˘/˘······· |
| is through | 2 | ·· |
| With their mince and apple-butter, and theyr souse and | 12 | ····/˘/˘···· |
| saussage, too!... | 3 | ··· |
| I don't know how to tell it--but ef sich a thing could be | 14 | ·············· |
| As the Angels wantin' boardin', and they'd call around | 13 | ··/˘········· |
| on ME-- | 2 | ·· |
| I'd want to 'commodate 'em--all the whole-indurin' | 13 | ···/˘˘······· |
| flock-- | 1 | · |
| When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the | 14 | ······/˘··/˘·· |
| shock! | 1 | · |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.