When the dawn winds whisper <br />To the standing corn, <br />And the rose of morning <br />From the dark is born, <br />All my shadowy garden <br />Seems to grow aware <br />Of a fragrant presence, <br />Half expected there. <br /> <br />In the golden shimmer <br />Of the burning noon, <br />When the birds are silent <br />And the poppies swoon, <br />Once more I behold her <br />Smile and turn her face, <br />With its infinite regard, <br />Its immortal grace. <br />When the twilight silvers <br />Every nodding flower, <br />When the new moon hallows <br />The first evening hour, <br />Is it not her footfall <br />Down the garden walks, <br />Where the drowsy blossoms <br />Slumber on their stalks? <br /> <br />In the starry quiet, <br />When the soul is free, <br />And a vernal message <br />Stirs the lilac tree, <br />Surely I have felt her <br />Pass and brush my cheek, <br />With the eloquence of love <br />That does not need to speak!<br /><br />Bliss William Carman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/garden-shadows/