The Gallows

OLD OCTOBER
by James Whitcomb Riley

Old October's purt' nigh gone,
And the frosts is comin' on
Little heavier every day—
Like our hearts is thataway!
Leaves is changin' overhead
Back from green, to gray and red,
Brown, and yeller, with their stems
Loosenin' on the oaks and e'ms;
And the balance of the trees
Gittin' balder every breeze —
Like the heads we're scratchin' on!
Old October's purt' nigh gone.

I love Old October so,
I can't bear to see her go —
Seems to me like losin' some
Old-home relative, er chum —
'Pears like sorto' settin' by
Some old friend 'at sigh by sigh
Was a-passin' out o' sight
Into everlastin' night!
Hickernuts a feller hears
Eattlin' down is more like tears
Drappin' on the leaves below —
I love Old October so!

Can't tell what it is about
Old October knocks me out! —
I sleep well enough at night —
And the blamedest appetite
Ever mortal man possessed,—
Last thing et, it tastes the best! —
Warnuts, butternuts, pawpaws,
Iles and limbers up my jaws
Fer raal service, sich as new
Pork, spareribs, and sausage, too.—
Yit, fer all, they's somepin' 'bout
Old October knocks me out!