Thought's Garden.
I have within Thought's garden sat
And played with this sweet flower and that,
And touched my lute till each soft string
Was tuned to Love's remembering.
Then in the grass I've laid me down
And woven my heart a faery crown,
As one who in a dream might be
Intoxicate with poesy.
Until I felt my being grow
Pure as a flower, as white as snow,
Though through it did a rosy streak
The passion of my love bespeak.
And I would feed on fancies then
Till I came back to time again,
Like one who on a fragrant way
Had parted with the golden Day;
And in the twilight wandering home
Did then as to Love's cabin come,
And found within a mate who made
A glory of the coming shade!
poem by Robert Crawford
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
