The Garden

Out of the darkness of the fenceless past A garden climbs the walls of spring’s awakening, The shadowed and the lighted paths entwined, Strewn with great petals of the fading rose. And in its walled enclosure, we shall find, A voice that calls, a whisper soft and low That mingles with the twilight and the dew, And bids the heart bloom large beyond its bounds.

• Amy Lowell