My Garden.
My garden all a shimmer of leaves,1
All a glowing glory of light ;2
Flowers, golden and blue and red,3
Crowding together in my sight.4
Mighty billows of softest air5
Blowing in the trees o’erhead ;6
I am sitting alone, and think7
Thus will it be when I am dead.8
Thus will the soft wind blow, and thus9
The flowers will bloom and the sun will shine ;10
And others, I know not who, will sit,11
As I do now, in this garden of mine.12
And I shall be gone from here—but where ?13
Dead, and lying within the ground ;14
Or living and glad amid scenes more fair,15
With flowers, still brighter than these, around ?16