To the Grasshoppper and the CricketBoth poems: 30th December, 1816.
Green little vaulter in the summer grass,
Catching your heart up at the feel of June,
Sole voice that's heard admist the lazy noon,
When ev'n the bees lag at the summoning brass; --
And you, warm little housekeeper, who class
Wth those who think the candles come too soon,
Loving the fire, and with your tricksome tune
Nick the glad silent moments as they pass;--
Oh, sweet and tiny cousins, that belong
One to the fields, the other to the hearth,
Both have your sunshine; both, though small, are strong
At your clear hearts; and both were sent on earth
To sing in thoughtful ears this natural song --
In doors and out, --summer and winter, --Mirth.
On the Grasshopper and the Cricket
The poetry of earth is never dead:
When all the birds are faint with the hot sun,
And hide in the cooling trees, a coice 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.
The poetry of earth is ceasing never:
On a lone winter evening, when the first
Has wrought a silence, from the stove there shrills
The Cricket's song, in warmth increasing ever,
And seems to one in drowsiness half lost,
The Grasshopper's among some grassy hills.
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