• 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 !