Each thirsty clod is tasting

One drop—and then one more.

Oh, ravishing as slumber

To wearied limbs and eyes,

And countless as the number

Of stars in wintry skies,

And sweet as the caresses

By baby fingers made,

These delicate rain kisses

On leaf and flower and blade.

{36}

{36}

The Patient Earth

I

THE patient earth that loves the grass,

T

The flocks and herds that o’er it pass,

That guards the smallest summer nest

Within her scented bosom pressed,

And gives to beetle, moth, and bee

 Prev. P 29/78 next