Green Fields and Running Brooks, and Other Poems by James Whitcomb Riley
page 34 of 174 (19%)
page 34 of 174 (19%)
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In the splendor all-prevailing,
Like a sallow leaf goes sailing Down the silence solemnly. TOM VAN ARDEN. Tom Van Arden, my old friend, Our warm fellowship is one Far too old to comprehend Where its bond was first begun: Mirage-like before my gaze Gleams a land of other days, Where two truant boys, astray, Dream their lazy lives away. There's a vision, in the guise Of Midsummer, where the Past Like a weary beggar lies In the shadow Time has cast; And as blends the bloom of trees With the drowsy hum of bees, Fragrant thoughts and murmurs blend, Tom Van Arden, my old friend. Tom Van Arden, my old friend, All the pleasures we have known Thrill me now as I extend |
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