The Old-Fashioned Garden: And Other Verses (Classic Reprint) - Tapa blanda

Excerpt from The Old-Fashioned Garden: And Other Verses

So bright and lovely is the dear old place, It seems as though the country's very heart Were centered here, and that its antique grace Must ever hold it from the world apart. Immured it lies among the meadows deep, Its flowery stillness beautiful and calm as softest sleep.

Some like a garden where the hand of art Appears in every terrace, walk, and bed, Where vases stand in even rows apart And shrubs are taught symmetric shade to spread But little art I wish; enough for me This garden where the flowers grow in sweet simplicity.

Fair is each budding thing the garden shows, From spring's frail crocus to the latest bloom Of fading autumn. Every wind that blows Across that glowing tract sips rare perfume From all the tangled blossoms tossing there Soft winds, they fain would linger long, nor farther fare!

The morning-glories ripple o'er the hedge And fleck its greenness with their tinted foam Sweet Wilding things, up to the garden's edge They love to wander from their meadow home, To take what little pleasure here they may Ere all their silken trumpets close before the warm mid-day.

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