GRASS 
Unpretending goodness. 
The royal rose—the tulip’s glow,— 
The jasmine’s gold are fair to see, 
But while the graceful grasses grow, 
Oh! gather them for me! 
The pansy’s gold and purple wing, 
The snow-drop’s smile may light the lea, 
But while the fragrant grasses spring, 
My wreath of them shall be! 
F. S. 0. 
A living poem round me breathes 
Light, color, melody and air,— 
In all, divinest music wreathes— 
Through earth and sky—Creation’s prayer! 
The dreaming cloud sails by in heaven, 
Its gliding shadow dims the grass, 
That tranquil takes whate’er is given, 
Breeze, shade and sunshine as they pass; 
And ever as it grows, it sings 
Its own sweet hymn of lowly love; 
Soft on its faintly fragrant wings, 
The fairy murmur floats above. 
The lightest chord of Nature’s lyre, 
Forever tuned to joy and praise!— 
Oh! happy heart! join thou the choir— 
With breeze and bird the anthem raise. 
As meekly springs the dew-fed grass, 
With softest song, through shade and shine, 
Oh! trustful let the shadows pass! 
And grow to meet the light divine! 
F. S. 0. 
