Explore "Honey Dripping from the Comb" by James Whitcomb Riley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
How slight a thing may set one's fancy drifting / Upon the dead sea of the Past! -- A view -- / Sometimes an odor -- or a rooster lifting / A far-off "OOH! OOH-OOH!"
And suddenly we find ourselves astray / In some wood's-pasture of the Long Ago -- / Or idly dream again upon a day / Of rest we used to know.
I bit an apple but a moment since -- / A wilted apple that the worm had spurned, -- / Yet hidden in the taste were happy hints / Of good old days returned. --
And so my heart, like some enraptured lute, / Tinkles a tune so tender and complete, / God's blessing must be resting on the fruit -- / So bitter, yet so sweet!