IN PRAISE OF GARDENS 



Paradise 



Once in a dream I saw the flowers 



That bud and bloom in Paradise; 



More fair they are than waking eyes 

 Have seen in all this world of ours, 

 And faint the perfume bearing rose, 



And faint the lily on its stem, 

 And faint the perfect violet, 



Compared with them. 



I heard the songs of Paradise; 



Each bird sat singing in its place; 



A tender song so full of grace 

 It soared like incense to the skies. 

 Each bird sat singing to its mate 



Soft cooing notes among the trees: 

 The nightingale herself were cold 



To such as these. 



I saw the fourfold River flow, 



And deep it was, with golden sand; 

 It flowed between a mossy land 



With murmured music grave and low. 



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