quit the clover

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

            You have heard the beat of the off-shore wind,
            And the thresh of the deep-sea rain;
            You have heard the song -- how long! how long?
            Pull out on the trail again!
        Ha' done with the Tents of Shem, dear lass,
        We've seen the seasons through,
        And it's time to turn on the old trail, our own trail, the out trail,
        Pull out, pull out, on the Long Trail -- the trail that is always new.

      It's North you may run to the rime-ringed sun ....”


Rudyard Kipling - from The Long Trail