When the watchful Wizard, smuggled you aboard
your train--with privacy unbroken you, like
King Saul, returned to your People, refreshed in body,
restored in mind; for had not the Wizard done for you,
as David did for Saul, for had not he brought Peace
to your no longer Troubled Soul?
Did he not say to you, in parting, "All Is Well With You?"

O! James Whitcomb Riley!
It is late in the Afternoon, of a Perfect Summer Day.
This Man From Down On The Farm,
is standing on the Banks Of Wolf Run.
He is thinking of You!
Joyfully, not Regretfully!
A Pastoral Scene stretches before him--
a Scene of much Beauty!
The Cattle stand, not "knee-deep in June"
but well into the pure rippling Waters of an August
Wolf Run, under the dense shade overhead, where
arching branches inter-lock, casting a net-work
of shifting Shadows on the bosom of the Peaceful
Waters, which seem to murmer, as they
flow, your Name--Joyfully, not Mournfully!

James Whitcomb Riley!
James Whitcomb Riley!
James Whitcomb Riley!

Smiling, undulating, across the Creek,
a Blue Grass Meadow gently rolls away,