FOOTPATHS 



is thicker, with further blades which have pushed 

 up, some browner. Cold northern winds cause it 

 to wear a dry, withered aspect ; under warm 

 showers it visibly opens itself; in a hurricane it 

 tosses itself wildly to and fro ; it laughs under the 

 sunshine. 



There are thick bunches by the footpath, which 

 hang over and brush the feet. While approaching 

 there seems nothing there except grass, but in the 

 act of passing, and thus looking straight down into 

 them, there are blue eyes at the bottom gazing up. 

 These specks of blue sky hidden in the grass 

 tempt the hand to gather them, but then you can- 

 not gather the whole field. 



Behind the bunches where the grass is thinner 

 are the heads of purple clover ; pluck one of these, 

 and while meditating draw forth petal after petal 

 and imbibe the honey with the lips till nothing 

 remains but the green framework, like stolen jew- 

 ellery from which the gems have been taken. 

 Torn pink ragged robins through whose petals 

 a comb seems to have been remorselessly dragged, 

 blue scabious, red knapweeds, yellow rattles, yellow 

 vetchings by the hedge, white flowering parsley, 

 white campions, yellow tormentil, golden butter- 

 cups, white cuckoo-flowers, dandelions, yarrow, 

 and so on, all carelessly sown broadcast without 

 order or method, just as negligently as they are 

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