Green Things Growing

Oh, the green things growing, the green things growing,

The faint sweet smell of the green things growing!

I should like to live, whether I smile or grieve,

Just to watch the happy life of my green things growing.

Oh, the fluttering and the pattering of those green things growing!

How they talk each to each, when none of us are knowing;

In the wonderful white of the weird moonlight

Or the dim dreamy dawn when the cocks are crowing.

I love, I love them so,—my green things growing!

And I think that they love me, without false showing;

For by many a tender touch, they comfort me so much,

With the soft mute comfort of green things growing.