In the Clover-Field

The air is sweet as sweet can be,
The azure sky spreads smoothly over,
And rest and joy keep company,
In this wide field of sun-kissed clover.

Among the heavy heads of pink,
The avaricious bees are straying,
A glad full-throated bobolink,
His highest note is now essaying.

The earth is holding on her breast,
The sweetest flowers of all her growing,
The white clouds float, from out the west
A soft delicious wind is blowing.

Oh, life is good on such a day,
The blue sky bending smoothly over,
For neither care nor cross will stay,
In this wide field of sun-kissed clover.