Page:The Yellow Book - 06.djvu/137

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A Song


Outside the hedge of roses
Which walls my garden round,
And many a flower encloses,
Lies fresh unfurrowed ground.


I have not delved, nor planted,
In that strange land, nor come
To sow in soil enchanted
Sweet promises of bloom.


My labours all have ended
Within my fragrant wall,
The blossoms I have tended
Have grown so sweet and tall.


But now in silver showers
Your laughter falls on me,
And fairer than all flowers
Your flower-face I see.


And