105. Poem "The Grass so little has to do"

The Grass so little has to do,

A Sphere of simple Green -

With only Butterflies, to brood,

And Bees, to entertain -

And stir all day to pretty tunes

The Breezes fetch along,

And hold the Sunshine, in it's lap

And bow to everything,

And thread the Dews, all night, like Pearl,

And make itself so fine

A Duchess, were too common

For such a noticing,

And even when it die, to pass

In odors so divine -

As lowly spices, laid to sleep -

Or Spikenards perishing -

And then to dwell in Sovreign Barns,

And dream the Days away,

The Grass so little has to do,

I wish I were a Hay -


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