ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 



THE VOICE OF THE GRASS. 



HERE I come, creeping, creeping everywhere. 

 By the dusty road-side, 

 On the sunny hill-side, 

 Close by the noisy brook, 

 In every shady nook, 

 I come creeping, creeping everywhere. 



Here I come, creeping, creeping everywhere. 



All around the open door, 



Where sit the aged poor, 



Here where the children play 



In the bright and merry May, 

 I come creeping, creeping everywhere. 



Here I come, creeping, creeping everywhere. 



In the noisy city street, 



My pleasant face you'll meet, 



Cheering the sick at heart, 



Toiling his busy part 

 Silently creeping, creeping everywhere. 



Here I come, creeping, creeping everywhere. 



You cannot see me coming, 



Nor hear my low sweet humming ; 



For in the starry night, 



And the glad morning light, 

 I come quietly creeping, creeping everywhere. 



Here I come, creeping, creeping everywhere. 



More welcome than the flowers, 



In summer's pleasant hours. 



The gentle cow is glad, 



And the merry bird not sad, 

 To see me creeping, creeping everywhere. 



Here I come, creeping, creeping everywhere. 



When you're numbered with the dead, 



In your still and narrow bed, 



In the happy spring I'll come 



And deck your silent home 

 Creeping, silently creeping everywhere. 



Here I come, creeping, creeping everywhere. 



My humble song of praise 



Most joyfully I'll raise 



To Him at whose command 



1 beautify the land 

 Creeping, silently creeping everywhere. 



SARAH ROBERTS. 



