James Whitcomb Riley

Here you will find thePoemIt's_Got_To Beof poet James Whitcomb Riley

It's_Got_To Be

'When it's _got_ to be,'--like! always say, As I notice the years whiz past, And know each day is a yesterday, When we size it up, at last,-- Same as I said when my _boyhood_ went And I knowed _we_ had to quit,-- 'It's _got_ to be, and it's _goin'_ to be!'-- So I said 'Good-by' to _it_. It's _got_ to be, and it's _goin'_ to be! So at least I always try To kind o' say in a hearty way,-- 'Well, it's _got_ to be. Good-by!' The time jes melts like a late, last snow,-- When it's _got_ to be, it melts! But I aim to keep a cheerful mind, Ef I can't keep nothin' else! I knowed, when I come to twenty-one, That I'd soon be twenty-two,-- So I waved one hand at the soft young man, And I said, 'Good-by to _you_!' It's _got_ to be, and it's _goin'_ to be! So at least I always try To kind o' say, in a cheerful way,-- 'Well, it's _got_ to be.--Good-by!' They kep' a-goin', the years and years, Yet still I smiled and smiled,-- For I'd said 'Good-by' to my single life, And I now had a wife and child: Mother and son and the father--one,-- Till, last, on her bed of pain, She jes' smiled up, like she always done,-- And I said 'Good-by' again. It's _got_ to be, and it's _goin'_ to be! So at least I always try To kind o' say, in a humble way,-- 'Well, it's _got_ to be. Good-by!' And then my boy--as he growed to be Almost a man in size,-- Was more than a pride and joy to me, With his mother's smilin' eyes.-- He gimme the slip, when the War broke out, And followed me. And I Never knowed till the first right's end ... I found him, and then, ... 'Good-by.' It's _got_ to be, and it's _goin'_ to be! So at least I always try To kind o' say, in a patient way, 'Well, it's _got_ to be. Good-by!' I have said, 'Good-by!--Good-by!--Good-by!' With my very best good will, All through life from the first,--and I Am a cheerful old man still: But it's _got_ to end, and it's _goin'_ to end! And this is the thing I'll do,-- With my last breath I will laugh, O Death, And say 'Good-by' to _you_!... It's _got_ to be! And again I say,-- When his old scythe circles high, I'll laugh--of course, in the kindest way,-- As I say 'Good-by!--Good-by!'