A narrow fellow in the grass
A narrow fellow in the grass
Occasionally rides—
You may have met Him — did you not
His notice sudden is—
The grass divides as with a comb—
A spotted shaft is seen—
And then it closes at your feet
And opens further on—
He likes a boggy acre
A floor too cool for corn
Yet when a Boy, and barefoot—
I more than once at noon
Have passed, I thought, a whip lash
Unbraiding in the sun
When stooping to secure it
It wrinkled, and was gone—
Several of nature's People
I know, and they know me—
I feel for them a Transport
Of cordiality—
But never met this Fellow
Attended, or alone
Without a tighter breathing
And zero at the Bone—