A child said, What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands;
How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is, any more
than he.
I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green
stuff woven.
Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,
A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt,
Bearing the owner's name
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