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James Whitcomb Riley - On The Banks O` Deer Crick
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On the banks o` Deer Crick!  There`s the place fer me!--
  Worter slidin` past ye jes as clair as it kin be:--
  See yer shadder in it, and the shadder o` the sky,
  And the shadder o` the buzzard as he goes a-lazein` by;
  Shadder o` the pizen-vines, and shadder o` the trees--
  And I purt`-nigh said the shadder o` the sunshine and the breeze!
  Well--I never seen the ocean ner I never seen the sea:
  On the banks o` Deer Crick`s grand enough fer me!

  On the banks o` Deer Crick--mild er two from town--
  `Long up where the mill-race comes a-loafin` down,--
  Like to git up in there--`mongst the sycamores--
  And watch the worter at the dam, a-frothin` as she pours:
  Crawl out on some old log, with my hook and line,
  Where the fish is jes so thick you kin see `em shine
  As they flicker round yer bait, _coaxin_` you to jerk,
  Tel yer tired ketchin` of `em, mighty nigh, as _work_!

  On the banks o` Deer Crick!--Allus my delight
  Jes to be around there--take it day er night!--
  Watch the snipes and killdees foolin` half the day--
  Er these-`ere little worter-bugs skootin` ever`way!--
  Snakefeeders glancin` round, er dartin` out o` sight;
  And dew-fall, and bullfrogs, and lightnin`-bugs at night--
  Stars up through the tree-tops--er in the crick below,--
  And smell o` mussrat through the dark clean from the old b`y-o!

  Er take a tromp, some Sund`y, say, `way up to "Johnson`s Hole,"
  And find where he`s had a fire, and hid his fishin` pole;
  Have yer "dog-leg," with ye and yer pipe and "cut-and-dry"--
  Pocketful o` corn-bred, and slug er two o` rye,--
  Soak yer hide in sunshine and waller in the shade--
  Like the Good Book tells us--"where there`re none to make afraid!"
  Well!--I never seen the ocean ner I never seen the sea--
  On the banks o` Deer Crick`s grand enough fer me!
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