A little garden on a bleak hillside <br />Where deep the heavy, dazzling mountain snow <br />Lies far into the spring. The sun's pale glow <br />Is scarcely able to melt patches wide <br />About the single rose bush. All denied <br />Of nature's tender ministries. But no, -- <br />For wonder-working faith has made it blow <br />With flowers many hued and starry-eyed. <br />Here sleeps the sun long, idle summer hours; <br />Here butterflies and bees fare far to rove <br />Amid the crumpled leaves of poppy flowers; <br />Here four o'clocks, to the passionate night above <br />Fling whiffs of perfume, like pale incense showers. <br />A little garden, loved with a great love!<br /><br />Amy Lowell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-little-garden/
