Turn, turn thy hasty foot aside,
Nor crush that helpless worm!
The frame thy wayward looks deride
Required aGod to form.
The common Lord of all that move,
From Whom thy being flow'd,
A portion of His boundless love
On that poor worm bestow'd.
The sun, the moon, the stars, He made
For all his creatures free;
And spead o'er earth the grassy blade,
For worms as well as thee.
Let them enjoy their little day,
Their humble bliss recieve;
O! do not lightly take away
The life thou canst not gice!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
your poem is superb...........for your age.