Sorrow in a Garden
Here in this ancient garden
When Winter days had flown
I came, with Comrade Sorrow
To dwell with her alone.
Here in this sweet seclusion
Far from the World’s cold stare
What exquisite communings
Sorrow and I would share!
What banquets of remembrance!
What luxury of tears!
With Sorrow in a garden
Through the rose-scented years!
But one day when she called me
I did not hear her voice;
I only heard the lilies
Which sang “Rejoice, rejoice!”
The world was gold and azure
The air was sweet with birds;
My garden laughed with rapture
How could I hear her words?
For June was in the garden
And June was in my heart,
And since that hour pale Sorrow
And I have dwelt apart.
But often in the twilight
When birds and gardens sleep
I feel her presence with me
Her arms about me creep.
And when the ghosts of Summer
With the dead roses talk,
I hear her softly sobbing
Along the moonlit walk.
I never can forget her
So intimate were we!
But Sorrow, in my garden
Abides no more with me.
May Riley Smith