tender human
 

Thou
canst
not
move
across
the
grass,

 
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But
my
quick
eyes
will
see
Thee
pass, 

 
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Nor speak,
however
s
i
l
e
n
t
l
y

 
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But
my
hushed
voice

will
answer
Thee.

 
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I
know
the
path
that
tells
Thy way

 
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Through
the
cool
eve
of
every day;

 
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God,

I can push the grass apart

And lay
my finger on
Thy
heart!

source: “Renascence” by Edna St. Vincent Millay, 1917 (excerpt)

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