 | The silver bridge and other poems |  |
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MY NEIGHBOR'S GARDEN.
Up to the border of my small domain
My neighbor's garden stretches wide and sweet;
His roses toss against my window-pane;
His jasmine wreathes my porch and doorway seat.
My neighbor's garden stretches wide and sweet;
His roses toss against my window-pane;
His jasmine wreathes my porch and doorway seat.
My threshold every May is carpeted
With pale pink petals from his peach-tree blown;
His tallest lilac lifts its plumy head
Up to the casement where I sit alone.
With pale pink petals from his peach-tree blown;
His tallest lilac lifts its plumy head
Up to the casement where I sit alone.
Waking I hear, as dawns the morning light,—
My neighbor busy in his bordered walks,
Noting the added beauties born of night,
Pulling the weeds among his flower-stalks.
My neighbor busy in his bordered walks,
Noting the added beauties born of night,
Pulling the weeds among his flower-stalks.
From early March, when the brave crocus comes,
Edging the beds with lines of blue and gold,
Till the consoling, kind chrysanthemums
Contend against the winter's cruel cold,—
Edging the beds with lines of blue and gold,
Till the consoling, kind chrysanthemums
Contend against the winter's cruel cold,—
My neighbor toils with wise and patient hand,
Scarce pausing in his work for sun or shower,
Evolving gradually from mould and sand
The germ, the leaf, the perfect bud and flower.
Scarce pausing in his work for sun or shower,
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The germ, the leaf, the perfect bud and flower.
A rare magician he, whose touch transmutes
—Helped by the sprites which rule the airs and dews—
Dry dormant seeds and dark unlovely roots
To graceful shapes and richest scents and hues.
—Helped by the sprites which rule the airs and dews—
Dry dormant seeds and dark unlovely roots
To graceful shapes and richest scents and hues.
His garden teems with glad and brilliant lives;
There wheel and dive the gauzy dragon-flies,
Bees gather tribute for their distant hives,
And gray moths flutter as the daylight dies.
There wheel and dive the gauzy dragon-flies,
Bees gather tribute for their distant hives,
And gray moths flutter as the daylight dies.
Sparrows and wrens sing songs which need no words;
And over flower-cups scarce more bright than they,
Green-winged and scarlet-throated humming-birds
Hang, tranced with sweet, then whir and dart away.
And over flower-cups scarce more bright than they,
Green-winged and scarlet-throated humming-birds
Hang, tranced with sweet, then whir and dart away.
From branch to branch, beneath my watching eyes,
His net a black-and-golden spider weaves,
And scores of many-colored butterflies
Waltz in and out among the dancing leaves.
His net a black-and-golden spider weaves,
And scores of many-colored butterflies
Waltz in and out among the dancing leaves.
My neighbor in their midst—thrice-favored one!
Delves, plants, trains, weeds, and waters patiently,
Studies the alchemy of rain and sun,
And works his floral miracles for me.
Delves, plants, trains, weeds, and waters patiently,
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And works his floral miracles for me.
For me! not one enjoys this paradise
As I, within my overlooking room;
It is not seen, even by the owner's eyes,
At once—the whole wide stretch of growth and bloom.
As I, within my overlooking room;
It is not seen, even by the owner's eyes,
At once—the whole wide stretch of growth and bloom.
With sight and mind absorbed, he little thinks
How all his garden's sweetness drifts to me;
How his rich lilies and his spicy pinks
Send incense up to me continually.
How all his garden's sweetness drifts to me;
How his rich lilies and his spicy pinks
Send incense up to me continually.
Yet still he labors faithfully and long
My loneliness to brighten and beguile,
Asking for all this fragrance, bloom, and song
Not even the small repayment of a smile.
My loneliness to brighten and beguile,
Asking for all this fragrance, bloom, and song
Not even the small repayment of a smile.
Unconscious friend, who thus enrichest me,
Long may thy darlings thrive, untouched by blight,
Unplagued by worm or frost; and may there be
No serpent in thine Eden of delight.
Long may thy darlings thrive, untouched by blight,
Unplagued by worm or frost; and may there be
No serpent in thine Eden of delight.
And ye whose spirits faint with weariness,
Count not your work unvalued and unknown;
Cheered by your toil, some silent soul may bless
The hand that strives not for itself alone.
Count not your work unvalued and unknown;
Cheered by your toil, some silent soul may bless
The hand that strives not for itself alone.
| The silver bridge and other poems | |