A poor old Widow in her weeds Sowed her garden with wild-flower seeds; Not too shallow, and not too deep, And down came April -- drip -- drip -- drip. Up shone May, like gold, and soon Green as an arbour grew leafy June. And now all summer she sits and sews Where willow-herb, comfrey, bugloss blows, Teasel and tansy, meadowsweet, Campion, toadflax, and rough hawksbit; Brown bee orchis, and Peals of Bells; Clover, burnet, and thyme she smells; Like Oberon's meadows her garden is Drowsy from dawn till dusk with bees. Weeps she never, but sometimes sighs, And peeps at her garden with bright brown eyes; And all she has is all she needs -- A poor old Widow in her weeds. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PORTRAIT OF A LADY by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS SONG AT THE FEAST OF BROUGHAM CASTLE; UPON RSTORATION OF LORD CLIFFORD by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH GOLDEN GLOW by ABUL HASAN OF SEVILLE THE DREAMER by HUGH FRANCIS BLUNT ABSENCE by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES THE HOLY STAR by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: DEATH-IN-LIFE by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |