I am Thy grass, O Lord!
I grow up sweet and tall
But for a day, beneath Thy sword
To lie at evenfall.
Yet have I not enough
In that brief day of mine?
The wind, the bees, the wholesome stuff
The sun pours out like wine.
Behold, this is my crown,-
Love will not let me be;
Love holds me here; Love cuts me down;
And it is well with me.
Lord, Love, keep it but so;
Thy purpose is full plain:
I die that after I may grow
As tall, as sweet again.
Trust
Lizette Woodworth Reese
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Poem topics: sun, wind, grass, crown, plain, purpose, beneath, sword, sweet, Valentine's Day, love, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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