For Violet <br /> <br /> <br />In the garden she hath found <br />Herb of grace and fever-few; <br />Woundwort there doth much abound, <br />Heartsease too. <br /> <br />Where she laid dead things away <br />In the chilly earth, what stir! <br />Whisper of Spring-time, green and gay, <br />Comes to her. <br /> <br />All Sweet-Nancies, daffodils, <br />Talking in their beds below <br />Of sweet vales and shining hills <br />Whither they go. <br /> <br />In the garden there's no grief; <br />God walks there and He is kind, <br />When the first dear crumpled leaf <br />Shakes in the wind. <br /> <br />There's no death now. Winter's done. <br />All's given back. The dead again <br />Walk with her in the wind and sun <br />And the sweet rain. <br /> <br />Heartsease in her garden plot, <br />Ladders-to-Heaven scale the skies; <br />While the dear forget-me-not <br />Brightens her eyes.<br /><br />Katharine Tynan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-gardener-8/
