I mind me in ted,

        en underhe sun

        ito run

        to a garden loed.

        te;

        And he spade,

        t grasses Nature laid

        to sanctify .

        I called the place my wilderness,

        For no oered t I;

        to espy,

        And passed it heless.

        trees erwoven wild,

        And spread t

        to keep bot,

        But not a happy child.

        Adventurous joy it was for me!

        I crept behe boughs, and found

        A circle smooth of mossy ground

        Beree.

        Old garden rose-trees    in,

        Bedropt e

        ell satisfied

        And careless to be seen.

        Long years ago it might befall,

        rim,

        the grave old gardener prided him

        On t of all.

        Some lady, stately overmuch,

        h a silken noise,

        the voice

        t likened o such.

        And to make a diadem,

        Sen may wined,

        came to mind

        t fe them.

        Otle t t lady proud,

        A cce rose,

        er brows,

        And silk was ged for shroud!

        Nor t t gardener, (full of ss

        For men unlearned and simple phrase,)

        A c all its praise

        By creeping thorns!

        to me upon my lo,

        t

        Of sce or loves pliment,

        I    as s.

        It did not move my grief to see

        trace of ep departed:

        Because ted,

        ther plae!

        Friends, blame me not! a narrow ken

        the sun and sward;

        e draerward,

        e feel then.

        And gladdest hours for me did glide

        In sile tree wall:

        A thrush made gladness musical

        Upon ther side.

        Nor he nor I did eer ine

        to peck or pluck te;

        roses might

        Lead lives as glad as mine?

        to make my -e,

        I brouger from the spring

        Praised in its own low murmuring,

        And cresses glossy .

        And so, I t, my likeness grew

        (it tale)

        to Gentle    of the Dale,

        And Angelina too.

        For oft I read hin my nook

        Sucrel stories; till the breeze

        Made sounds poeti trees,

        And t the book.

        If I s te

        I

        trees, nor feel t c

        Delig.

        My ced,

        My footstep from the moss which drew

        Its fairy circle round: anew

        ted.

        Anothere rehearse

        test are;

        No more for me! myself afar

        Do sing a sadder verse.

        A I lay

        In t c so greenly ,

        I laugo myself and t

        time will pass away.

        And still I laug fear

        But t, w away

        time, some happier play

        My womanhood would cheer.

        I kneime would pass away,

        A, beside tree wall,

        Dear God,    all,

        Did I look up to pray!

        time is past; and no grows

        trees,

        And I bee sepulchres

        As e rose, --

        s are given,

        And I    to lift my face,

        Reminded    place

        the color draws from heaven, --

        It somethly pain,

        But more for heavenly promise free,

        t I wo be

        t happy child again.
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