416 
ANONYMOUS. 
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 every where. 
More welcome than the flowers, 
In Summer’s pleasant hours ; 
The gentle crow is glad, 
And the merry bird not sad 
To see me creeping, creeping every where. 
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, every where. 
My humble song of praise, 
Most gratefully I raise 
To Him at whose command 
I beautify the land ; 
Creeping, silently creeping, every whero. 
