toward the White, the Winding Pike:
Each blade of Blue Grass--Joyfully,
not Tearfully--seems to whisper your Name:

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

But Hark! The belated Song of a Mocking Bird--
its Vesper Song--to its enraptured Mate!
This, the Glad Song:

To You James Whitcomb Riley!
The World was full of Roses!
Every Rose held hidden, within its Tremulous Heart, a
Slender Crystal Chalice of Perfumed Dew, which,
overflowing, spilled its Prodigal Sweetness,
onto the Earth, into the Air,

For You James Whitcomb Riley!
--For You, and for All Humanity!
And this, the Joyful Refrain:
--Joy, without Regret!
Joy, without Mourning!
Joy, without Tears!--
--A Refrain which readily, willingly,
finds Grateful Echo in the Heart of
This Man From Down On The Farm!

O! James Whitcomb Riley!