Green beetle as if on a pin.

You may roll in it, if you would like a

Few holes in your skin.

You wouldn’t? Then think of how kind you

Should be to the insects who crave

Your compassion—and then, look behind you

At yon barley-ears! Don’t they look brave

As they undulate (undulate, mind you,

From unda, a wave).

The noise of those sheep-bells, how faint it