I read them as a child.  Sentimental for a far off time
Softened by the long passage  areseen thru the mists
Longing for a lost innocence.  Now that time of my
Youth is as far a way as the time of Riley's old farm
Tales was from him-and it kind of seems they rest in
A place where we are forever young that we loved-
But never quite knew how much until they are gone
Calling forth tears to make glisten all our memories


A tribute to James Whitcomb Riley, The "Indiana Bard"