When buried lay her whiter brows,

(Without the melancholy tale)

My womanhood would cheer.

Of science or loves compliment,

Bedropt with roses waxen-white

A circle smooth of mossy ground

And spread their boughs enough about

And I have learnt to lift my face,

Dear God, how seldom, if at all,

I hear no more the wind athwart

Half-smiling as it came to mind

Some lady, stately overmuch,

Made sounds poetic in the trees,

That I who was, would shrink to be

In that childs-nest so greenly wrought,

Nor thought that gardener, (full of scorns

Lead lives as glad as mine?

Its fairy circle round: anew

The garden is deserted.

O九九藏書n these the most of all.

To a garden long deserted.

And passed it neertheless.

Here moving with a silken noise,

And gladdest hours for me did glide

And careless to be seen.

For oft I read within my nook

A child would watch her fair white rose,

When graver, meeker thoughts are given,

And still I laughed, and did not fear

Because the garden was deserted,

I knew the time would pass away,

How should I know but roses might

To me upon my low moss seat,

Adventurous joy it was for me!

As well as the white rose, --

Praised in its own low murmuring,

And Angelina too.

Ah me, ah me! when erst I lay

The childishread.99csw.com time, some happier play

Beneath a poplar tree.

The grave old gardener prided him

And I behold white sepulchres

But more for Heavenly promise free,

Old garden rose-trees hedged it in,

She often may have plucked and twined,

I laughed unto myself and thought

We feel the gladness then.

My footstep from the moss which drew

Long years ago it might befall,

Did I look up to pray!

How often underneath the sun

Delighting in delight.

Has blushed beside them at the voice

I crept beneath the boughs, and found

The time will pass away.

Oh, little thought that lady proud,

To make my hermit-home complete,

For mｒead•99ｃsw•ｃｏmen unlearned and simple phrase,)

To keep both sheep and shepherd out,

To Gentle Hermit of the Dale,

The blither place for me!

That likened her to such.

And wheresoeer had struck the spade,

Has childhood twixt the sun and sward;

The time is past; and now that grows

And cresses glossy wet.

The cypress high among the trees,

To peck or pluck the blossoms white;

And then I shut the book.

Nor he nor I did eer incline

We draw the moral afterward,

And yet, beside the rose-tree wall,

My childhood from my life is parted,

Such minstrel stories; till the breeze

Those trees, nor feel that childish heart

A child would b九九藏書ring it all its praise

The madrigals which sweetest are;

I ween they smelt as sweet.

But that, wheneer was past away

Friends, blame me not! a narrow ken

By creeping through the thorns!

In silence at the rose-tree wall:

The color draws from heaven, --

Do sing a sadder verse.

A thrush made gladness musical

That happy child again.

Reminded how earths greenest place

That few would look at them.

If I shut this wherein I write

I brought dear water from the spring

And silk was changed for shroud!

The trace of human step departed:

For no one enterehtｔｐs://ｒｅａｄ•９９cｓｗ.ｃｏｍd there but I;

But not a happy child.

With childish bounds I used to run

Another thrush may there rehearse

The trees were interwoven wild,

And these, to make a diadem,

The greenest grasses Nature laid

The beds and walks were vanished quite;

It did not move my grief to see

Well satisfied with dew and light

When all the garden flowers were trim,

To sanctify her right.

It something saith for earthly pain,

No more for me! myself afar

I called the place my wilderness,

Though never a dream the roses sent

Upon the other side.

And so, I thought, my likeness grew

I mind me in the days departed,

The sheep looked in, the grass to espy,