In the Grass

FACE downward on the grass in reverie, I found how cool and sweet Are the green glooms that often thoughtlessly I tread beneath my feet. In this strange mimic wood where grasses lean— Elf trees untouched of bark— I heard the hum of insects, saw the sheen Of sunlight framing dark, And felt with thoughts I cannot understand, And know not how to speak, A daisy reaching up its little hand To lay it on my cheek.