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A narrow Fellow in the Grass Occasionally rides - You may have met him? Did you not His notice instant is -
The Grass divides as with a Comb, A spotted Shaft is seen, And then it closes at your Feet And opens further on -
Have passed I thought a Whip Lash Unbraiding in the Sun When stooping to secure it It wrinkled And was gone -
He likes a Boggy Acre - A Floor too cool for Corn - But when a Boy and Barefoot I more than once at Noon
But never met this Fellow Attended or alone Without a tighter Breathing And Zero at the Bone.
Several of Nature’s People I know, and they know me I feel for them a transport Of Cordiality
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