IN PRAISE OF GARDENS 



O my Garden, full of roses, 



Red as passion and as sweet, 

 Failing not when summer closes, 



Lasting on through cold and heat! 

 O my Garden, full of lilies, 



White as peace, and very tall, 

 In your midst my heart so still is 



I can hear the last leaf fall. 



PHILIP BOURKE MARSTON. 



(Garden Secrets.) 



In a Kentish Rose Garden 



Beside a Dial in the leafy close, 

 Where every bush was burning with the Rose, 

 With million roses falling flake by flake 

 Upon the lawn in fading summer snows: 



I read the Persian Poet's rhyme of old, 

 Each thought a ruby in a ring of gold 

 Old thoughts so young, that, after all these years, 

 They're writ on every rose-leaf yet unrolled. 



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