In the dimness before dawn, the speaker lies in a field and feels the grass against her body as a living presence, listening to its cold, song-like whisper. She is weeping, and the grass seems to speak back: it calls her a “foolish little earth child” and tells her it is not yet her time to sink into the ground. Then it gives her a tender vision of the future. One day, her lover will lie in that same paddock before dawn. The grass will no longer feel cold to him; in its movement he will find the sway of her hair, and in its scent he will find her kisses. He will stay there for a long time, laughing rather than weeping. The mood is hushed, eerie, and strangely comforting—nature is imagined as a presence that can absorb grief and keep love alive after loss.
The Earth-Child in the Grass — Summary
In the very early morning Long before Dawn time I lay down in the paddock And listened to the cold song of the grass. Between my fingers the green blades, And the green blades pressed against my body. “Who is she leaning so heavily upon me?” Sang the grass. “Why does she weep on my bosom, Mingling her tears with the tears of my mystic lover? Foolish little earth child! It is not yet time. One day I shall open my bosom And you shall slip in--but not weeping. Then in the early morning Long before Dawn time Your lover will lie in the paddock. Between his fingers the green blades And the green blades pressed against his body ... My song shall not sound cold to him In my deep wave he will find the wave of your hair In my strong sweet perfume, the perfume of your kisses. Long and long he will lie there ... Laughing--not weeping.”