THE GRASS OF THE FIELD.

———

BY CAROLINE MAY.

———

The grass of the field shall be now my theme,

For when winter is past, and the snow

Has melted away from the earth like a dream,

No flowers that in loveliness grow

More dear, or more beautiful ever can be

Than the simple grass of the field to me.

It springs up so quick, when showers call aloud

For every thing glad to come forth;

And when the sun bursts from his rainbow-cloud,

As the rain passes off to the north—

It shines in his glory, and laughs in his light,

The green grass of the field, so glistening and bright.

Happy children love in the grass to play,

Thick and soft for their dancing feet;

And there the wild bees gather honey all day

From the clover so blushing and sweet,

And find no stores that the garden can yield

Are richer than those from the grass of the field.

The lark makes his nest in the twining grass,

And methinks when he soars to the skies,

And sings the clear notes that all others surpass,

His gladness must surely arise

From the lowly content of that innocent breast,

Which finds in the grass of the field a safe nest.

There are few who notice the delicate flower

That blooms in the grass at their feet,

Yet the proudest plant in the greenhouse or bower

Is not fairer, or more complete;

And to those who observe—it is clearly revealed

That God clothes with beauty the grass of the field.

The mower comes out so busy and blythe,

At the dawn of a summer’s day,

And the tall waving grass at the stroke of his scythe

Is cut down and withers away:

But the fragrance it sends over valley and hill

Makes the grass of the field loved and lovely still.

And while on the perishing grass we look,

A soft voice in the summer wind

Will whisper the words of the Holy Book

To the humble and thoughtful mind.

“All flesh is as grass,” it will seem to say—

“Like the flower of the grass ye shall pass away.”

But oh! we will hope with a faith secure—

Through the years of this mortal strife—

On the words of the Lord, which forever endure,

For in them is eternal life:

Thus lessons of truth all our pleasures will yield,

And wisdom we’ll learn from the grass of the field.