There is a fenceless garden overgrown With buds and blossoms and all sorts of leaves; And once, among the roses and the sheaves, The Gardener and I were there alone. He led me to the plot where I had thrown The fennel of my days on wasted ground, And in that riot of sad weeds I found The fruitage of a life that was my own. My life! Ah, yes, there was my life, indeed! And there were all the lives of humankind; And they were like a book that I could read, Whose every leaf, miraculously signed, Outrolled itself from Thought's eternal seed. Love-rooted in God's garden of the mind. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOW WE BURNED THE 'PHILADELPHIA' by BARRETT EASTMAN TROAS: ACT II. LATTER END OF THE CHORUS by LUCIUS ANNAEUS SENECA THE GROVES OF BLARNEY by RICHARD ALFRED MILLIKIN THE OLD MAN'S WISH by WALTER POPE THE LOST WAR-SLOOP by EDNA DEAN PROCTOR GIRL TO SOLDIER ON LEAVE by ISAAC ROSENBERG |