Garden Magic

Within my stone-walled garden

( I see her standing now,

Uplifted in the twilight,

With glory on her brow! )

I love to walk at evening

And watch, when winds are low,

The new moon in the tree-tops,

Because she loved it so!

And there entranced I listen,

While flowers and winds confer,

And all their conversation

Is redolent of her.

I love the trees that guard it,

Upstanding and serene,

So noble, so undaunted,

Because that was her mien.

I love the brook that bounds it,

Because its silver voice

Is like her bubbling laughter

That made the world rejoice.

I love the golden jonquils,

Because she used to say,

If soul could choose a color

It would be clothed as they.

I love the blue-gray iris,

Because her eyes were blue,

Sea-deep and heaven-tender

In meaning and in hue.

I love the small wild roses,

Because she used to stand

Adoringly above them

And bless them with her hand.

These were her boon companions.

But more than all the rest

I love the April lilac,

Because she loved it best.

Soul of undying rapture!

How love's enchantment clings,

With sorcery and fragrance,

About familiar things!