Friend of my heart, here in my close green bower <br />I wait thy coming: slender clematis <br />And the rank wild--vine, with late primroses, <br />And classic tea--tree with small purple flower, <br />Are here, and foxglove with its bearded bell, <br />Haunt of the passing bee: and thy delight, <br />The lily of the valley, purest white, <br />Rising like fabled nymph from ocean--shell. <br />Nor wanting is Canova's art divine: <br />On the rude trunk, native in earth below, <br />The god of gladness, garlanded with vine, <br />And Ariadne re--assured from woe; <br />And the full noon, by leafy screen delayed, <br />Has spread the pebbled floor with fickle shade.<br /><br />Henry Alford<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-lxxviii-friend-of-my-heart-here-in-my-close-green-bower/
