Ho! green fields and running brooks! <br />Knotted strings and fishing-hooks <br />Of the truant, stealing down <br />Weedy backways of the town. <br /> <br />Where the sunshine overlooks, <br />By green fields and running brooks, <br />All intruding guests of chance <br />With a golden tolerance, <br /> <br />Cooing doves, or pensive pair <br />Of picnickers, straying there-- <br />By green fields and running brooks, <br />Sylvan shades and mossy nooks! <br /> <br />And--O Dreamer of the Days, <br />Murmurer of roundelays <br />All unsung of words or books, <br />Sing green fields and running brooks!<br /><br />James Whitcomb Riley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/green-fields-and-running-brooks/
