James Whitcomb Riley!
James Whitcomb Riley!
Smiling, undulating, across the Creek,
a Blue Grass Meadow gently rolls away,
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!