The Garden Wall

Mark you, how casts the setting sun

His rays on yonder stony wall,

Reflecting gold as if the dawn

Shone forth through sun’s traverses all.

Yon’ wall is aged, storied oft’;

’Til late, ’twas locked and shut to eyes

That fairest bloom in garden sought:

All beauty there seemed doomed to die.

The ground lay fallow, ‘neath the shade

Of stony ridge man’s hand cast up

To shield the springing grassy blades

From idle hands too keen to pluck.

Then gard’ner kind did find the key,

Unlock the gate and enter in

And nurture plants that dying seemed

To glory there that had not been.

So mark, how lovely now appears

That walled-in garden, tended so,

By caring hands that value dear

The blooms and blossoms they well know.