The grass so little has to do, —
\nA sphere of simple green,
\nWith only butterflies to brood,
\nAnd bees to entertain,<\/p>\n
And stir all day to pretty tunes
\nThe breezes fetch along,
\nAnd hold the sunshine in its lap
\nAnd bow to everything;<\/p>\n
And thread the dews all night, like pearls,
\nAnd make itself so fine, —
\nA duchess were too common
\nFor such a noticing.<\/p>\n
And even when it dies, to pass
\nIn odors so divine,
\nAs lowly spices gone to sleep,
\nOr amulets of pine.<\/p>\n
And then to dwell in sovereign barns,
\nAnd dream the days away, —
\nThe grass so little has to do,
\nI wish I were the hay!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"