I KNOW a garden where white lilies grow, <br />Under the grey sweet-laden apple boughs; <br />It is a garden where the roses blow, <br />And honeysuckle covers half the house. <br />O happy garden, do you keep the vows <br />Breathed in your quiet ear beneath the rose, <br />Or do you tell the tale to each soft wind that blows? <br /> <br /> <br />Across your grassy paths she used to stray, <br />She moved among you like a living flower, <br />Her beauty drank your beauty every day, <br />Your beauty decked her beauty every hour. <br />You gave her rose and lily for a dower, <br />With all sweet flowers and fruits your bosom bore-- <br />She took them all--and now she comes not any more. <br /> <br /> <br />O garden, if you breathe such secret things <br />To the south wind who loves you, tell him this: <br />To spread the scented softness of his wings, <br />And seek that other garden where she is, <br />And bid him bear no blossom and no kiss; <br />Only, dear garden, tell the wind to say <br />How grey the world is grown since Margaret went away!<br /><br />Edith Nesbit<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/margaret-3/
