96 A WHITE-PAPER GARDEN 



foot! More eyes than mine can see it, when 

 I say of it that it was 



GRANDMOTHER'S GARDEN 



" In grandmother's garden ! The very words 

 Bring back the carols of long-dead birds : 

 Bring back the croonings of countless bees ; 

 Bring back the odour-ladened breeze 

 That swept through the white-domed orchard trees, 

 And the purple plumes that the lilacs bore, 

 And the sweet May-roses beside the door. 

 The world is old, and over it still 

 The world-winds wander and range at will, 

 But they cannot blow, so far so free 

 As to find that garden again for me ! 



"In grandmother's garden the hollyhocks 

 Row upon row lifted wreathed stalks 

 With bloom of purple, of pearly white, 

 Of close-frilled yellow, of crimson bright. 

 In ruffled robes of satin dight 

 With pointed mantles of powdered greens 

 What gay court ladies, what royal queens, 

 With each a daisy for diadem ! 

 What pomps and pageants we made of them 

 In the sweet, lost garden we used to know 

 In sweet, lost years so long ago ! 



" In grandmother's garden the roses red 

 Grew in a long, straight garden bed, 

 By yellow roses with small close leaves ; 

 And yuccas, we called them Adams-and-Eves ! 

 Threaded with fringes of fairy weaves ; 

 By marigolds in velvet browns, 

 And heart's-ease in their splendid gowns ; 



