In the poem, the grasshopper is said to be enjoying the luxuries of nature; he does this by reveling in the wonderful summer weather and enjoying his explorations "From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead."
Unlike the birds who become "faint with the hot sun," the grasshopper does not let the heat of the sun exhaust his energy; he is able to savor his joy in the outdoors and is "never done with his delights." When tired with his jaunts, the grasshopper merely "rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed."
The luxury of nature rests in its bountiful life; the poet asserts that "the poetry of earth is never dead." Even in the deep of winter, the strains of the grasshopper's summer song can be heard in the midst of one's reveries. Indeed, the cricket's song, before the warmth of some stove in winter, may sound little different from the grasshopper's song in the heat of summer.
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