When the frosty kiss of Autumn in the dark <br />Makes its mark <br />On the flowers, and the misty morning grieves <br />Over fallen leaves; <br />Then my olden garden, where the golden soil <br />Through the toil <br />Of a hundred years is mellow, rich, and deep, <br />Whispers in its sleep. <br /> <br />'Mid the crumpled beds of marigold and phlox, <br />Where the box <br />Borders with its glossy green the ancient walks, <br />There's a voice that talks <br />Of the human hopes that bloomed and withered here <br />Year by year,-- <br />Dreams of joy, that brightened all the labouring hours, <br />Fading as the flowers. <br /> <br />Yet the whispered story does not deepen grief; <br />But relief <br />For the loneliness of sorrow seems to flow <br />From the Long-Ago, <br />When I think of other lives that learned, like mine, <br />To resign, <br />And remember that the sadness of the fall <br />Comes alike to all. <br /> <br />What regrets, what longings for the lost were theirs! <br />And what prayers <br />For the silent strength that nerves us to endure <br />Things we cannot cure! <br />Pacing up and down the garden where they paced, <br />I have traced <br />All their well-worn paths of patience, till I find <br />Comfort in my mind. <br /> <br />Faint and far away their ancient griefs appear: <br />Yet how near <br />Is the tender voice, the careworn, kindly face, <br />Of the human race! <br />Let us walk together in the garden, dearest heart, <br />Not apart! <br />They who know the sorrows other lives have known <br />Never walk alone.<br /><br />Henry Van Dyke<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/autumn-in-the-garden/
