There is a fenceless garden overgrown <br />With buds and blossoms and all sorts of leaves; <br />And once, among the roses and the sheaves, <br />The Gardener and I were there alone. <br />He led me to the plot where I had thrown <br />The fennel of my days on wasted ground, <br />And in that riot of sad weeds I found <br />The fruitage of a life that was my own. <br /> <br />My life! Ah, yes, there was my life, indeed! <br />And there were all the lives of humankind; <br />And they were like a book that I could read, <br />Whose every leaf, miraculously signed, <br />Outrolled itself from Thought’s eternal seed. <br />Love-rooted in God’s garden of the mind.<br /><br />Edwin Arlington Robinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-garden-6/
