Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE VOICE OF THE GRASS, by SARAH ROBERTS BOYLE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE VOICE OF THE GRASS, by                 Poet's Biography
First Line: Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere
Last Line: Creeping, silently creeping everywhere.
Alternate Author Name(s): Roberts, Sarah
Subject(s): Grass; Trees


HERE I come creeping, creeping everywhere;
By the dusty roadside,
On the sunny hillside,
Close by the noisy brook,
In every shady nook,
I come creeping, creeping everywhere.
Here I come creeping, smiling everywhere;
All round the open door,
Where sit the aged poor;
Here where the children play,
In the bright and merry May,
I come creeping, creeping everywhere.
Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere;
In the noisy city street
My pleasant face you'll meet,
Cheering the sick at heart
Toiling his busy part, --
Silently creeping, creeping everywhere.
Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere;
You cannot see me coming.
Nor hear my low sweet humming;
For in the starry night,
And the glad morning light,
I come quietly creeping everywhere.
Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere;
More welcome than the flowers
In summer's pleasant hours;
The gentle cow is glad,
And the merry bird not sad,
To see me creeping, creeping everywhere.
Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere;
When you're numbered with the dead
In your still and narrow bed,
In the happy spring I'll come
And deck your silent home, --
Creeping, silently creeping everwhere.
Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere;
My humble song of praise
Most joyfully I raise
To Him at whose command
I beautify the land,
Creeping, silently creeping everywhere.




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