Grass.
Beautiful sight—refreshing green,1
Constant and true to changing Earth,2
Whene’er she gives a flow’ret birth,3
Thou, near the floral child art seen.4
The king-cup and the daisy fair5
Would far less charming seem to me6
Didst thou not robe the mead and lea,7
And guard the floral beauties there.8
On castle wall and rampart lone,9
From fissures old I’ve seen thee peep,10
As if love-vigil there to keep11
Over the damp decaying stone.12
From the wet shingle on the beach13
I’ve seen thee lift thy tufted spears,14
Oft brilliant with the briny tears15
Of Ocean struggling up the reach.16
In haunts unknown to single flower,17
On boundless plains without a tree,18
Thou spread’st thy couch of greenery,19
For insect blithe a sheltering bower.20
A desert wild seems scarcely so,21
If we but meet thy visage fair,22
Thou sweetly smiling round us there,23
We think of meads where cattle low.24
When far and long from home we’ve been,25
And come back with a fluttering heart,26
With what a sudden joy we start,27
Seeing once more thy distant green.28
And if we have to seek a grave29
Beneath the yew-tree’s sacred gloom,30
Though not one flower may on it bloom,31
In beauty there thou’rt sure to wave ;32
And many a warm and holy tear33
From pious watcher’s cheek thou’st felt,34
When on the rounded turf she’s knelt,35
Marking the grave of one most dear.36
Earth’s glory, rich in quiet charms,37
Not spices of far Araby38
Match thy delicious fragrancy,39
When thou liest dead in Autumn’s arms.40