THERE was a garden planned in Spring's young days, Then, Summer held it in her bounteous hand; And many wandered through its blooming ways; But ne'er the one for whom the work was planned. And it was vainly done -- For what are many, if we lack the one? There was a song that lived within the heart Long time -- and then on Music's wing it strayed! All sing it now, all praise its artless art; But ne'er the one for whom the song was made. And it was vainly done -- For what are many, if we lack the one? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN OLD WOMAN: 2. HARVEST by EDITH SITWELL A SPINSTER'S STINT by ALICE CARY EPIGRAM by DECIMUS MAGNUS AUSONIUS SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 18. A PORTRAIT by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) DUNCTON HILL by HILAIRE BELLOC |