Explore "Bob White" by Annie Fellows Johnston on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
JUST now, beyond the turmoil and the din / Of crowded streets that city walls shut in, / I heard the whistle of a quail begin: / "Bob White! Bob White!" / So faintly and far away falling / It seemed that a dream voice was calling / "Bob White! Bob White!" / How the old sights and sounds come thronging / And thrill me with a sudden longing!
Through quiet country lanes the sunset shines.