The Grass so little has to do—
A Sphere of simple Green—
Yet Interest of a Nation
Might lie in it, unseen—

It might be all the Fields we knew,
Or all the Land we own—
The Grass so little has to do—
Yet work it might have done—

We cannot latch the door away—
Nor is our Lawn our own—
The Grass so little has to do—
Yet the Nations lie alone—

• Emily Dickinson