THE FIRST GRASS
by: Robinson Jeffers (1887-1962)
- T rained three autumn days; then close to frost
Under clear starlight the night shivering was.
The dawn rose cold and colorless as glass,
And when we wakened rains and clouds were lost.
The ocean surged and shouted stormy-tossed.
I went down to companion him. Alas,
What faint voice by the way? The sudden grass
Cried with thin lips as I the valley crossed,
Saying blade by blade, "Although the warm sweet rain
Awakened us, this world is all too cold.
We never dreamed it thus."--"Your champion bold
Is risen," I said; "he in an hour or twain
Will comfort you." I passed. Above the dune
Stood the wan splendorless daylight-waning moon.
POEMS BY ROBINSON JEFFERS
"The First Grass" is
reprinted from Californians. Robinson Jeffers. New York: