Explore "The Mulberry Tree" by James Whitcomb Riley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It's many's the scenes which is dear to my mind / As I think of my childhood so long left behind; / The home of my birth, with it's old puncheon-floor, / And the bright morning-glories that growed round the door; / The warped clab-board roof whare the rain it run off / Into streams of sweet dreams as I laid in the loft, / Countin' all of the joys that was dearest to me, / And a-thinkin' the most of the mulberry tree.
And to-day as I dream, with both eyes wide-awake, / I can see the old tree, and its limbs as they shake, / And the long purple berries that rained on the ground / Whare the pastur' was bald whare we trommpt it around.