THE grass around my limbs is deep and sweet; <br />Yonder the house has lost its shadow wholly, <br />The blinds are dropped, and softly now and slowly <br />The day flows in and floats; a calm retreat <br />Of temper'd light where fair things fair things meet; <br />White busts and marble Dian make it holy, <br />Within a niche hangs Durer's "Melancholy" <br />Brooding; and, should you enter, there will greet <br />Your sense with vague allurement effluence faint <br />Of one magnolia bloom; fair fingers draw <br />From the piano Chopin's heart-complaint; <br />Alone, white-robed she sits; a fierce macaw <br />On the verandah, proud of plume and paint, <br />Screams, insolent despot, showing beak and claw.<br /><br />Edward Dowden<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-the-garden-iii-an-interior/
