  Who can hear the grass talk? Very few, I know; Yet it whispers every day, Sweet and soft and low. And one day I heard it; Shall I tell you when? I lay on the grass to read, And I heard it then. Everything was pleasant; Dew lay in the flowers’ eyes, Heavy sleep in mine; So I gently shut them; Soon they opened wide; For I heard the grasses talk Fast on every side! This is what they talked about: “Oh, what pleasant weather! Lift your heads up to the sun, Nod and wave together! “We’re so glad that we are grass, Cool and soft and green; Oh, how sad the earth would look If no grass were seen! little girl reading books in grass “And we love the summer warm, But, oh, dear! oh, dear! What will little grasses do When winter cold is here? “How the wind will whistle Round about our heads! Oh it’s very hard to have No covers on our beds!” Then the wise red-rose bush Tall, and rough and old, Shook his head, and kindly said, “You will not be cold, “For God sends a blanket warm Soft and light, and white as wool; Not a blade He’ll pass!” “What’s the blanket made of? Quick! we want to know!” “Why, my dears,” the rose-bush said, “God’s blanket is the snow.” J. S. |
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