English poem
The Wet Grass Of Morning
by Hartley Burr Alexander (1873–1939)
In the spring when I bathe my feet in the wet grass of morning, I see many smiles upon the meadows....
There are drops of shining dew clinging to the blue harebells, And the little white starflowers sparkle with dew, shining....
Old Woman Spider has beaded many beautiful patterns, Spreading them where the Sun’s ray falls....
He also is smiling as he catches the red of the blackbird’s opening wing, As he harkens to the mocking-bird inventing new songs....
I was an old man as I sat by the evening fire; When I bathe my feet in the wet grass of morning I am young again.
Upon me, standing alone where the World is-- Upon me comes the shining of his Ray! ]