AMONG the flowers, like flowers, her slow hands move Easing a muffled bell or stooping low To help sweet roses climb the stakes above, Where pansies stare and seem to whisper "Lo!" Like gaudy butterflies her sweet peas blow Filling the garden with dim rustlings. Clear On the sweet Book she reads how long ago There was a garden to a woman dear. She makes her life one grand beatitude Of Love and Peace, and with contented eyes She sees not in the whole world mean or rude, And her small lot she trebly multiplies. And when the darkness muffles up the skies Still to be happy is her sole desire, She sings sweet songs about a great emprise, And sees a garden blowing in the fire. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE MOON by HAYDEN CARRUTH FINIS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOMESDAY BOOK: IRMA LEESE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE SHADOWY WATERS: A DRAMATIC POEM by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE BATTLE-FIELD by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT MISS KILMANSEGG AND HER PRECIOUS LEG: HER BIRTH by THOMAS HOOD |