Classic and Contemporary Poetry
MCFEETERS' FOURTH, by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: It was needless to say 'twas a glorious day Last Line: Of this most patriotic republic on earth? Alternate Author Name(s): Johnson Of Boone, Benj. F. Subject(s): Fourth Of July; Freedom; Nations; Patriotism; Independence Day; Liberty | ||||||||
IT was needless to say 'twas a glorious day, And to boast of it all in that spread-eagle way That our Forefathers had since the hour of the birth Of this most patriotic republic on earth! But 'twas justice, of course, to admit that the sight Of the old Stars-and-Stripes was a thing of delight In the eyes of a fellow, however he tried To look on the day with a dignified pride That meant not to brook any turbulent glee Or riotous flourish of loud jubilee! So argued McFeeters, all grim and severe, Who the long night before, with a feeling of fear, Had slumbered but fitfully, hearing the swish Of the sky-rocket over his roof, with the wish That the boy-fiend who fired it were fast to the end Of the stick to forever and ever ascend! Or to hopelessly ask why the boy with the horn And its horrible havoc had ever been born! Or to wish, in his wakefulness, staring aghast, That this Fourth of July were as dead as the last! So yesterday morning, McFeeters arose, With a fire in his eyes, and a cold in his nose, And a guttural voice in appropriate key With a temper as gruff as a temper could be. He growled at the servant he met on the stair, Because he was whistling a national air, And he growled at the maid on the balcony, who Stood enrapt with the tune of "The Red-White-and-Blue" That a band was discoursing like mad in the street, With drumsticks that banged, and with cymbals that beat. And he growled at his wife, as she buttoned his vest, And applausively pinned a rosette on his breast Of the national colors, and lured from his purse Some change for the boys -- for firecrackers -- or worse; And she pointed with pride to a soldier in blue In a frame on the wall, and the colors there, too; And he felt, as he looked on the features, the glow The painter found there twenty long years ago, And a passionate thrill in his breast, as he felt Instinctively round for the sword in his belt. What was it that hung like a mist o'er the room? -- The tumult without -- and the music -- the boom Of the cannon -- the blare of the bugle and fife? -- No matter! -- McFeeters was kissing his wife, And laughing and crying and waving his hat Like a genuine soldier, and crazy, at that! -- Was it needless to say 'twas a glorious day And to boast of it all in that spread-eagle way That our Forefathers had since the hour of the birth Of this most patriotic republic on earth? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LOVE THE WILD SWAN by ROBINSON JEFFERS AFTER TENNYSON by AMBROSE BIERCE QUARTET IN F MAJOR by WILLIAM MEREDITH CROSS THAT LINE by NAOMI SHIHAB NYE EMANCIPATION by ELIZABETH ALEXANDER A BOY'S MOTHER by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY |
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