Rachel Lyman Field

Barefoot Days

In the morning, very early,

That's the time I love to go

Barefoot where the fern grows curly

And grass is cool between each toe,

On a summer morning-O!

On a summer morning!


That is when the birds go by

Up the sunny slopes of air,

And each rose has a butterfly

Or a golden bee to wear;

And I am glad in every toe—

Such a summer morning-O!

Such a summer morning!