With a fork drive Nature out, <br />She will ever yet return; <br />Hedge the flowerbed all about, <br />Pull or stab or cut or burn, <br />She will ever yet return. <br /> <br />Look: the constant marigold <br />Springs again from hidden roots. <br />Baffled gardener, you behold <br />New beginnings and new shoots <br />Spring again from hidden roots. <br />Pull or stab or cut or burn, <br />They will ever yet return. <br /> <br />Gardener, cursing at the weed, <br />Ere you curse it further, say: <br />Who but you planted the seed <br />In my fertile heart, one day? <br />Ere you curse me further, say! <br />New beginnings and new shoots <br />Spring again from hidden roots. <br />Pull or stab or cut or burn, <br />Love must ever yet return.<br /><br />Robert Graves<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/marigolds/
