Within my garden, on the southern side,
Where warm and strong the sun's battalions fall,
The lilies grow superbly white and tall,
The mignonette and phlox spread far and wide;
The roses there are my perpetual pride,
The ivy riots laughing up the wall,
And all my flower-loves, both great and small,
A daily feast of loveliness provide.
And deep within the garden of my heart,
Upon that side where thou art wont to shine—
And something of thy sweetness to impart—
There sprang these little wandering songs of mine;
I know not if they show thee what thou art,
But any worthiness they have is thine.
