They ain't no style about 'em, <br />And they're sorto' pale and faded, <br />Yit the doorway here, without 'em, <br />Would be lonesomer, and shaded <br />With a good 'eal blacker shudder <br />Than the morning-glories makes, <br />And the sunshine would look sadder <br />Fer their good old-fashion' sakes. <br /> <br />I like 'em 'cause they kindo'-- <br />Sorto' make a feller like 'em! <br />And I tell you, when I find a <br />Bunch out whur the sun kin strike 'em, <br />It allus sets me thinkin' <br />O' the ones 'at used to grow <br />And peek in thro' the chinkin' <br />O' the cabin, don't you know! <br /> <br />And then I think o' mother, <br />And how she ust to love 'em-- <br />When they wuzn't any other, <br />'Less she found 'em up above 'em! <br />And her eyes, afore she shut 'em, <br />Whispered with a smile and said <br />We must pick a bunch and putt 'em <br />In her hand when she wuz dead. <br /> <br />But as I wuz a-sayin', <br />They ain't no style about 'em <br />Very gaudy er displayin', <br />But I wouldn't be without 'em--, <br />'Cause I'm happier in these posies, <br />And the hollyhawks and sich, <br />Than the hummin'-bird 'at noses <br />In the roses of the rich.<br /><br />James Whitcomb Riley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/old-fashioned-roses/
