A garden "bed"; perhaps they call it so When bulbs beneath a coverlet of snow Are tucked by Mother Earth to rest awhile And dream till April, with her lovely smile, Throws off the blanket, bids them wake and rise To greet the golden glory of the skies. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHERE A ROMAN VILLA STOOD, ABOVE FREIBURG' by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE TIME, REAL AND IMAGINARY; AN ALLEGORY by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE CHRISMUS ON THE PLANTATION by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR A MIDSUMMER'S NOON IN THE AUSTRALIAN FOREST by CHARLES HARPUR I DID THIS FOR THEE! WHAT HAST THOU DONE FOR ME? by FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL SONNET: 86 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE |