All Quiet along the Potomac and other poems/The November Garden

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THE NOVEMBER GARDEN.


POOR old weeping, faded garden!
Hear her moaning: "Well-a-day!
I had friends and wooing lovers
 In the merry month of May.
 Now I'm lonely,
 With me only
 Lingers dark and drear decay.

"Roses, with their lips of velvet,
 Kissed me into summer's noon;
Dahlias promised faithful friendship
 'Neath the yellow harvest-moon.
 Fair and fleeting
 Was each greeting;
 Kiss and promise failed me soon.

"Artemisia, scorned in summer,
 With her quaint and thrifty ways,
Only she has not forsaken
 Through the dark November days.
 But to cheer me
 Still keeps near me,
 Cheerful in the white sun-rays.

"Yonder forest glows in splendor;
 Poets, artists, women fair,
Kneel before it, like an altar,
 Heavenly-lighted, blazing there,

 And its glory
 Gilds the story,
 Tints the picture, wreathes the hair."

"O wailing, worn, forsaken garden,"
 Artemisia softly said,
"Know you not there's glory waiting
 When these autumn days have sped—
 A sequel glory
 To Life s story,
 A crown of crystal for the head?"



O'er the waiting, silent garden
 Came, one starry, frosty night,
Strange new robes of shining splendor,
 Crystalline and strangely bright.
 So morning found
 The garden crowned,
 And robed in mystic robe of white.

Each leaf, and bough, and carved capsule,
 Seeded plume, grass-blade, and stone,
With curious screen of spiders' weaving,
 In a resplendent rainbow shone.
 So, ere the morn
 To earth was born,
 The King redeemed her for his own.

Ornament - All quiet along the Potomac.jpg