38 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
THE VOICE OF THE GRASS. 
H ERE 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 happjr spring I’ll come 
And deck your silent home — 
Creeping, silently preeping everywhere. 
Here I come, creeping, creeping everywhere. 
My humble song of praise 
Most joyfully I’ll raise 
To Him at whose command 
I beautify the land — 
Creeping, silently creeping everywhere. 
Sarah Roberts. 
