In a Garden

In a Garden written by William Henry Davies

From "The Bird of Paradise", 1914

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FAR from the sound of commerce, where the bees
Make hollow hum that bears it half in mind,
I live ; and when those flowers of early spring —
The Daffodils of March, that own unshared
All Nature's world, nor live to see their peers,
Primroses, Violets, and Anemones —
Are overwhelmed in June's green riot, I
Sit more in my small garden, where the flowers
Are large and strong. Blue Irises are there.
Dahlias, and heavy lidded Tulips, too;
Snapdragons, Roses, Stocks, and Marigolds,
Solomon's Seals and Canterbury Bells;
Tall Columbines that never raise their heads.
Sweet Peas and Asters, Mignonette and Pinks,
And cat-eyed Pansies with their velvet skin;
And Poppies, too, that with their richer hues
Make butterflies take wing or lie unseen;
Lilies so fair they challenge all the world,
And hold in silver tumblers their gold dice.
Ready to throw and win ; and many a flower
Is there whose large, soft breast is strong enough
To suckle three or four bees at one time.
Those flowers I love, and take more pride in them
Than sailors take in wearing scarves of silk.
I watch with joy the little new-born buds
How they just peep from half-closed eyes at morn,
And wake to find their dreams of dewdrops true.
There do I sit all through a summer's day —
Days turn without my knowledge into nights.
I sit so motionless at times that birds
Perch on the boughs that almost touch my head,
Before they see I am a thing of flesh.
So, with the poet's double sight and hearing,
I see another face behind the flower's,
I hear another voice inside the wind's —
A face and voice much sweeter than their own.
Helped by Thought's quiet midwife Solitude,
My mind brings forth a family of young dreams.

This work is in the public domain in countries where the copyright term is the author's life plus 70 years or less.