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,
But 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.

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