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Ah, when I think this earth on which we tread
Hath borne these blossoms of the lovely dead,
And made the living heart I love to beat,
I look with sudden awe beneath my feet
As you with erring reverence overhead.

 

George William Russell

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She is coming, my own, my sweet;
Were it ever so airy a tread,
My heart would hear her and beat,
Were it earth in an earthy bed;
My dust would hear her and beat,
Had I lain for a century dead;
Would start and tremble under her feet,
And blossom in purple and red.

 

Alfred (Lord) Tennyson

 

Let the blue sky overhead,
The green earth on which ye tread,
All that must eternal be
Witness the solemnity.

 

Percy Bysshe Shelley

 

Hail to the land whereon we tread,
Our fondest boast!
The sepulchres of mighty dead,
The truest hearts that ever bled,
Who sleep on glory’s brightest bed,
A fearless host:
No slave is here:—our unchained feet,
Walk freely as the waves that beat
Our coast.

 

James Gates Percival

 

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with the golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams beneath your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

 

William Butler Yeats

 

Speak kindly to the erring;
Thou yet may'st lead them back,
With holy words and tones of love,
From misery's thorny track.
Forget not thou hast often sinned.
And sinful yet must be;
Deal gently with the erring one,
As God hath dealt with thee.

 

Julia Abigail Fletcher Carney