Explore "The Clover" by James Whitcomb Riley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Some sings of the lily, and daisy, and rose, / And the pansies and pinks that the Summertime / throws / In the green grassy lap of the medder that lays / Blinkin' up at the skyes through the sunshiney days; / But what is the lily and all of the rest / Of the flowers, to a man with a hart in his brest / That was dipped brimmin' full of the honey and dew / Of the sweet clover-blossoms his babyhood knew?
I never set eyes on a clover-field now, / Er fool round a stable, er climb in the mow, / But my childhood comes back jest as clear and as plane / As the smell of the clover I'm sniffin' again; / And I wunder away in a bare-footed dream, / Whare I tangle my toes in the blossoms that gleam / With the dew of the dawn of the morning of love / Ere it wept ore the graves that I'm weepin' above.