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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416779" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Clover</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Some sings of the lily, and daisy, and rose,<br>And the pansies and pinks that the Summertime<br>throws<br>In the green grassy lap of the medder that lays<br>Blinkin' up at the skyes through the sunshiney days;<br>But what is the lily and all of the rest<br>Of the flowers, to a man with a hart in his brest<br>That was dipped brimmin' full of the honey and dew<br>Of the sweet clover-blossoms his babyhood knew?<br>I never set eyes on a clover-field now,<br>Er fool round a stable, er climb in the mow,<br>But my childhood comes back jest as clear and as plane<br>As the smell of the clover I'm sniffin' again;<br>And I wunder away in a bare-footed dream,<br>Whare I tangle my toes in the blossoms that gleam<br>With the dew of the dawn of the morning of love<br>Ere it wept ore the graves that I'm weepin' above.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And so I love clover--it seems like a part<br>Of the sacerdest sorrows and joys of my hart;<br>And wharever it blossoms, oh, thare let me bow<br>And thank the good God as I'm thankin' Him now;<br>And I pray to Him still fer the stren'th when I die,<br>To go out in the clover and tell it good-bye,<br>And lovin'ly nestle my face in its bloom<br>While my soul slips away on a breth of purfume</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Whitcomb+Riley">James Whitcomb Riley</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416779" data-title="The Clover de James Whitcomb Riley" data-description="Some sings of the lily, and daisy, and rose,
And the pansies and pinks that the Summertime
throws
In the green grassy lap of the medder that lays
Blinkin' up at the skyes through the sunshiney days;
But what is the lily and all of the rest
Of the ..."></div>
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