W'y, that-air blame Jap Miller, with his keen sircastic fun, Has got more friends than ary candidate 'at ever run! Don't matter what _his_ views is, when he states the same to you, They allus coincide with your'n, the same as two and two: You _can't_ take issue with him--er, at least, they haint no sense In startin' in to down him, so you better not commence.-- The best way's jes' to listen, like your humble servant does. And jes' concede Jap Miller is the best man ever wuz! On the drive back to the little Station, you were the Man, the Poet, but not the Mystic! You delighted the Wizard with your genial flow of Verse, of Story. When the watchful Wizard, smuggled you aboard your train--with privacy unbroken you, like King Saul, returned to your People, refreshed in body, restored in mind; for had not the Wizard done for you, as David did for Saul, for had not he brought Peace to your no longer Troubled Soul? Did he not say to you, in parting, "All Is Well With You?" O! James Whitcomb Riley! It is late in the Afternoon, of a Perfect Summer Day. This Man From Down On The Farm, is standing on the Banks Of Wolf Run. He is thinking of You! Joyfully, not Regretfully! A Pastoral Scene stretches before him-- a Scene of much Beauty! The Cattle stand, not "knee-deep in June" but well into the pure rippling Waters of an August Wolf Run, under the dense shade overhead, where arching branches inter-lock, casting a net-work of shifting Shadows on the bosom of the Peaceful Waters, which seem to murmer, as they flow, your Name--Joyfully, not Mournfully! James Whitcomb Riley! 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! 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! All Is Well With You! All Is Well With You! O! James Whitcomb Riley! All Is Well With You! O! James Whitcomb Riley! [Illustration] Postlude