Explore "At Utter Loaf" by James Whitcomb Riley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I. An afternoon as ripe with heat / As might the golden pippin be / With mellowness if at my feet / It dropped now from the apple-tree / My hammock swings in lazily.
II. The boughs about me spread a shade / That shields me from the sun, but weaves / With breezy shuttles through the leaves / Blue rifts of skies, to gleam and fade / Upon the eyes that only see / Just of themselves, all drowsily.