Meadow Grasshopper

~~



The poetry of earth is never dead:
When all the birds are
faint with the hot sun,
And hide in cooling trees,
a voice will run
From hedge to hedge
about the new-mown mead;
That is the Grasshopper's
-- he takes the lead

In summer luxury
-- he has never done
with his delights;

for when tired out with fun
He rests at ease
beneath some pleasant weed.

John Keats