There's a whisper down the field where the year has shot her yield, And the ricks stand grey to the sun, Singing - Over then, come over, for the bee has quit the clover, And your English summer's done'.
There's a whisper down the field where the year has shot her yield, And the ricks stand grey to the sun, Singing - Over then, come over, for the bee has quit the clover, And your English summer's done'.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories