In their lace mitts, austere and sweet,
Her gown's white folds among
I watched to see if she would stay,
What she would do-and oh!
She looked as if she liked the way
I let my garden grow!
She bent above my favourite mint
With conscious garden grace,
She smiled and smiled-there was no hint
Of sadness in her face.
She held her gown on either side
To let her slippers show,