This Man From Down On The Farm,
is standing on the Banks Of Wolf Run.
He is thinking of You!
Joyfully, not Regretfully!
A Pastoral Scene stretches before him--
a Scene of much Beauty!
The Cattle stand, not "knee-deep in June"
but well into the pure rippling Waters of an August
Wolf Run, under the dense shade overhead, where
arching branches inter-lock, casting a net-work
of shifting Shadows on the bosom of the Peaceful
Waters, which seem to murmer, as they
flow, your Name--Joyfully, not Mournfully!
James Whitcomb Riley!
James Whitcomb Riley!
James Whitcomb Riley!
Smiling, undulating, across the Creek,
a Blue Grass Meadow gently rolls away,
toward the White, the Winding Pike:
Each blade of Blue Grass--Joyfully,
not Tearfully--seems to whisper your Name:
James Whitcomb Riley!
James Whitcomb Riley!
James Whitcomb Riley!
But Hark! The belated Song of a Mocking Bird--
its Vesper Song--to its enraptured Mate!
This, the Glad Song:
To You James Whitcomb Riley!
The World was full of Roses!
Every Rose held hidden, within its Tremulous Heart, a
Slender Crystal Chalice of Perfumed Dew, which,
overflowing, spilled its Prodigal Sweetness,
onto the Earth, into the Air,
For You James Whitcomb Riley!
--For You, and for All Humanity!
And this, the Joyful Refrain:
--Joy, without Regret!
Joy, without Mourning!
Joy, without Tears!--
--A Refrain which readily, willingly,
finds Grateful Echo in the Heart of
This Man From Down On The Farm!
O! James Whitcomb Riley!
All Is Well With You!
All Is Well With You!
O! James Whitcomb Riley!
All Is Well With You!
O! James Whitcomb Riley!
[Illustration]
Postlude
--Which ought to have been The Prelude to
this Spray of Kentucky Pine.
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