Wortermelon Time
Old wortermelon time is a-comin' round again,And they ain't no man a-livin' any tickleder'n me,Fer the way I hanker after wortermelons is a sin--Which is the why and wharefore, as you can plainly see.
Oh! it's in the sandy soil wortermelons does the best,And it's thare they'll lay and waller in the sunshine andthe dewTel they wear all the green streaks clean off of theyrbreast;And you bet I ain't a-findin' any fault with them; ain'tyou?
They ain't no better thing in the vegetable line;And they don't need much 'tendin', as ev'ry farmerknows;And when theyr ripe and ready fer to pluck from the vine,I want to say to you theyr the best fruit that grows.
It's some likes the yeller-core, and some likes the red.And it's some says "The Little Californy" is the best;But the sweetest slice of all I ever wedged in my head,Is the old "Edingburg Mounting-sprout," of the west
You don't want no punkins nigh your wortermelonvines--'Cause, some-way-another, they'll spile your melons,shore;--I've seed 'em taste like punkins, from the core to the rines,Which may be a fact you have heerd of before
But your melons that's raised right and 'tended to withcare,You can walk around amongst 'em with a parent'spride and joy,And thump 'em on the heads with as fatherly a airAs ef each one of them was your little girl er boy.
I joy in my hart jest to hear that rippin' soundWhen you split one down the back and jolt the halvesin two,And the friends you love the best is gethered all around--And you says unto your sweethart, "Oh, here's thecore fer you!"
And I like to slice 'em up in big pieces fer 'em all,Espeshally the childern, and watch theyr high delightAs one by one the rines with theyr pink notches falls,And they holler fer some more, with unquenchedappetite.
Boys takes to it natchurl, and I like to see 'em eat--A slice of wortermelon's like a frenchharp in theyrhands,And when they "saw" it through theyr mouth sich musiccan't be beat--'Cause it's music both the sperit and the stummickunderstands.
Oh, they's more in wortermelons than the purty-coloredmeat,And the overflowin' sweetness of the worter squshedbetwixt
The up'ard and the down'ard motions of a feller's teeth,And it's the taste of ripe old age and juicy childhoodmixed.
Fer I never taste a melon but my thoughts flies awayTo the summertime of youth; and again I see the dawn,And the fadin' afternoon of the long summer day,And the dusk and dew a-fallin', and the night a-comin'on.
And thare's the corn around us, and the lispin' leaves andtrees,And the stars a-peekin' down on us as still as silvermice,And us boys in the wortermelons on our hands and knees,And the new-moon hangin' ore us like a yeller-coredslice.
Oh! it's wortermelon time is a-comin' round again,And they ain't no man a-livin' any tickleder'n me,Fer the way I hanker after wortermelons is a sin--Which is the why and wharefore, as you can plainly see.
Words in this poem
- hanker v. i.
- To long (for) with a keen appetite and uneasiness; to have a vehement desire; -- usually with for or after; as, to hanker after fruit; to hanker after the diversions of the town. [Prob. fr. hang; cf. D. hunkeren, hengelen.]
- waller n.
- One who builds walls.
- sunshine n.
- The light of the sun, or the place where it shines; the direct rays of the sun, the place where they fall, or the warmth and light which they give.
- spile n.
- A small plug or wooden pin, used to stop a vent, as in a cask. [Cf. LG. spile, dial. G. speil, speiler, D. spijl. *170.]
- amongst prep.
- Mixed or mingled; surrounded by. [OE. amongist, amonges, amonge, among, AS. onmang, ongemang, gemang, in a crowd or mixture. For the ending -st see Amidst. See Mingle.]
- fatherly a.
- Like a father in affection and care; paternal; tender; protecting; careful.
- jest n.
- A deed; an action; a gest. [OE. jeste, geste, deed, action, story, tale, OF. geste, LL. gesta, orig., exploits, neut. pl. from L. gestus, p. p. of gerere to bear, carry, accomplish, perfor]
- betwixt prep.
- In the space which separates; between. [OE. betwix, bitwix, rarely bitwixt, AS. betweox, betweohs, betweoh, betwih; pref. be- by + a form fr. AS. twa two. See Between.]
- childhood n.
- The state of being a child; the time in which persons are children; the condition or time from infancy to puberty. [AS. cildhad; cild child + -had. See Child, and hood.]
- afternoon n.
- The part of the day which follows noon, between noon and evening.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Wortermelon Time 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, Wortermelon Time, in Riley Farm-Rhymes (1883–1901), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #4783, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/riley-farm-rhymes/wortermelon-time.html, id L01964.
Form and metre
Wortermelon Time is 73 lines in 14 stanzas. 98% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 9.7 syllables. 7 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 37% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
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-A again · meA · sin · seeA
- 2 A-B-A-B bestA · and · dewB · theyr · breastA · ain't · youB
- 3 A-BAB lineA · farmer · knowsB · vineA · growsB
- 4 ABAB redA · bestB · headA · westB
- 5 -AABAB wortermelon · vinesA · melonsA · shoreB · rinesA · beforeB
- 6 -A-BAB with · careA · parent's · joyB · airA · boyB
- 7 A-BA-B soundA · halves · twoB · aroundA · the · youB
- 8 -A--A all · delightA · falls · unquenched · appetiteA
- 9 A-B-A-B eatA · theyr · handsB · music · beatA · stummick · understandsB
- 12 ABA-B awayA · dawnB · dayA · comin · onB
- 13 -A-BA-B and · treesA · silver · miceB · kneesA · cored · sliceB
- 14 -A-A again · meA · sin · seeA
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. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Old wortermelon time is a-comin' round again, | 13 | ········/˘·˘/ |
| And they ain't no man a-livin' any tickleder'n me, | 14 | ······/˘/˘···· |
| Fer the way I hanker after wortermelons is a sin-- | 15 | ····/˘········· |
| Which is the why and wharefore, as you can plainly see. | 14 | ···········/˘· |
| Oh! it's in the sandy soil wortermelons does the best, | 14 | ····/˘········ |
| And it's thare they'll lay and waller in the sunshine and | 13 | ······/˘··/·· |
| the dew | 2 | ·· |
| Tel they wear all the green streaks clean off of theyr | 11 | ··········· |
| breast; | 1 | · |
| And you bet I ain't a-findin' any fault with them; ain't | 14 | ········/˘···· |
| you? | 1 | · |
| They ain't no better thing in the vegetable line; | 12 | ···/˘···/˘˘· |
| And they don't need much 'tendin', as ev'ry farmer | 12 | ··········/˘ |
| knows; | 1 | · |
| And when theyr ripe and ready fer to pluck from the vine, | 13 | ·····/˘······ |
| I want to say to you theyr the best fruit that grows. | 12 | ············ |
| It's some likes the yeller-core, and some likes the red. | 12 | ············ |
| And it's some says "The Little Californy" is the best; | 14 | ·····/˘······· |
| But the sweetest slice of all I ever wedged in my head, | 14 | ··/˘····/˘···· |
| Is the old "Edingburg Mounting-sprout," of the west | 12 | ······/˘···· |
| You don't want no punkins nigh your wortermelon | 12 | ····/˘······ |
| vines-- | 1 | · |
| 'Cause, some-way-another, they'll spile your melons, | 12 | ···˘/˘····/˘ |
| shore;-- | 1 | · |
| I've seed 'em taste like punkins, from the core to the rines, | 13 | ·····/˘······ |
| Which may be a fact you have heerd of before | 11 | ··········· |
| But your melons that's raised right and 'tended to with | 12 | ··/˘····/˘·· |
| care, | 1 | · |
| You can walk around amongst 'em with a parent's | 12 | ··········/˘ |
| pride and joy, | 3 | ··· |
| And thump 'em on the heads with as fatherly a air | 13 | ········/˘˘·· |
| As ef each one of them was your little girl er boy. | 13 | ········/˘··· |
| I joy in my hart jest to hear that rippin' sound | 12 | ············ |
| When you split one down the back and jolt the halves | 11 | ··········· |
| in two, | 2 | ·· |
| And the friends you love the best is gethered all around-- | 13 | ············· |
| And you says unto your sweethart, "Oh, here's the | 11 | ··········· |
| core fer you!" | 3 | ··· |
| And I like to slice 'em up in big pieces fer 'em all, | 14 | ·········/˘··· |
| Espeshally the childern, and watch theyr high delight | 13 | ···········˘/ |
| As one by one the rines with theyr pink notches falls, | 12 | ·········/˘· |
| And they holler fer some more, with unquenched | 10 | ··/˘······ |
| appetite. | 3 | /˘· |
| Boys takes to it natchurl, and I like to see 'em eat-- | 13 | ············· |
| A slice of wortermelon's like a frenchharp in theyr | 13 | ············· |
| hands, | 1 | · |
| And when they "saw" it through theyr mouth sich music | 11 | ·········/˘ |
| can't be beat-- | 3 | ··· |
| 'Cause it's music both the sperit and the stummick | 12 | ··/˘········ |
| understands. | 3 | ·˘/ |
| Oh, they's more in wortermelons than the purty-colored | 14 | ············/˘ |
| meat, | 1 | · |
| And the overflowin' sweetness of the worter squshed | 13 | ······/˘····· |
| betwixt | 2 | ˘/ |
| The up'ard and the down'ard motions of a feller's teeth, | 14 | ·····/˘/˘··/˘· |
| And it's the taste of ripe old age and juicy childhood | 13 | ·········/˘/· |
| mixed. | 1 | · |
| Fer I never taste a melon but my thoughts flies away | 14 | ··/˘··/˘····˘/ |
| To the summertime of youth; and again I see the dawn, | 14 | ··/˘····˘/···· |
| And the fadin' afternoon of the long summer day, | 13 | ·····˘/···/˘· |
| And the dusk and dew a-fallin', and the night a-comin' | 14 | ······/˘····/˘ |
| on. | 1 | · |
| And thare's the corn around us, and the lispin' leaves and | 13 | ············· |
| trees, | 1 | · |
| And the stars a-peekin' down on us as still as silver | 14 | ············/˘ |
| mice, | 1 | · |
| And us boys in the wortermelons on our hands and knees, | 15 | ··········/˘··· |
| And the new-moon hangin' ore us like a yeller-cored | 13 | ····/˘······· |
| slice. | 1 | · |
| Oh! it's wortermelon time is a-comin' round again, | 14 | ·········/˘·˘/ |
| And they ain't no man a-livin' any tickleder'n me, | 14 | ······/˘/˘···· |
| Fer the way I hanker after wortermelons is a sin-- | 15 | ····/˘········· |
| Which is the why and wharefore, as you can plainly see. | 14 | ···········/˘· |
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