Glance their many-twinkling feet.

[T]he foot should have more of the acquaintance of earth, and know more of flowers, freshness, cool brooks, wild thyme, and salt sand than does anything else about us.[…] It is only the entirely unshod that have lively feet.

Pleasures newly found are sweet When they lie about our feet.

The rich scent of well-balanced soil was like incense.

But I love your feet
only because they walked
upon the earth and upon
the wind and upon the waters,
until they found me.

the grasses whisper "This is my Body"

If Hercules tall stature might bee guest
But by his thumbe, wherby to make the rest
In due proportion; the best rule that I
Would choose to measure Venus’ beauty by
Should bee her legg and foot. If husbandmen
Measure theyr timber by the foot, why then
Not we our wives? Whether wee goe or stride
Those native compasses are seldome wide
Of telling true: the round and slender foot
Is a sure index, and a secrett note
Of hidden parts; and well this way may lead
Unto the closett of a maydenheade:
Here, Emblemes of our youth, we roses tye,
And here the garter, love’s deare mystery:
For want of beauty here the peacock’s pride
Letts fall her trayne, and fearing to bee spide
Shutts upp her paynted witnesses to lett
Those eyes from view which are but counterfett.
Who looks not if this part be good or evill
May meet with cloven feet and match the divell,
For this doth make the difference betweene
The more unhallowed creatures and the cleane,
Well may you judge her other stepps are lighte,
Her thoughts awry that doth not tread aright:
But then there’s true perfection when wee see
Those parts more absolute that hidden bee:
Nature nere layd a fayre foundation
For an unworthy frame to rest upon.
Lett others view the topp and limbes throughout,
The deeper knowledge is to know the roote:
And reading of the face the weakest know,
What beauty is; the learned looke below;
Who, looking there, doe all the rest, descrie
As in a poole the moon we use to spie: Pardon (sweetehart) the pride of my desire If but to kisse your toe it should aspire.

And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair

Our shadows, now parallel, now close together and joined, traced an exquisite pattern at our feet.

If the foot of the trees were not tied to earth, they would be pursuing me.. For I have blossomed so much, I am the envy of the gardens.

Her pretty feet, like snails, did creep
A little out, and then,
As if they playèd at bo-peep,
Did soon draw in again.

I heard the voices of the trees; the surprises of their movements. Their varieties of form and even their peculiarity of attraction toward the light had suddenly revealed to me the language of the forest. All that world of flora lived as mutes, whose signs I divined, whose passions I discovered. I wished to converse with them and to be able to say to myself, through that other language, painting, that I had put my finger upon the secret of their grandeur.

I sing once more
The mild continuous epic of the soil

His feet were like fine copper when glowing in a furnace, and his voice was like the sound of many waters.