In The Garden
Sweet sounds, and scents, and colours join to woo
My musing heart to love and reverence;
A tender and a subtle influence
Comes from each graceful form, each brilliant hue;
Strange power have they, my spirit to imbue
With thoughts above themselves; for e’en while sense
Adores the Beautiful with joy intense,
The soul, far gazing, only seeks the True.
And ye, fair flowers, translating to my sight,
In gold or blue the pure uncoloured beams,
Are poets and revealers of the light;
Soon is your message told, your life-work done,
For all your tints are only passing dreams
Of the eternal splendour of the sun.
~ Constance C. W. Naden