Oh Shadow on the Grass,
Art thou a Step or not?
Go make thee fair my Candidate
My nominated Heart —
Oh Shadow on the Grass
While I delay to guess
Some other thou wilt consecrate —
Oh Unelected Face —
-
-
On my volcano grows the Grass
A meditative spot —
An acre for a Bird to choose
Would be the General thought —
How red the Fire rocks below
How insecure the sod
Did I disclose
Would populate with awe my solitude. -
And even when it dies, to pass
In odors so divine,
As lowly spices gone to sleep,
Or amulets of pine
And then to dwell in sovereign barns,
And dream the days away, —
The grass so little has to do,
I wish I were the hay ! -