. The long ago. flaming Cocks Comb by the little hear the honey-bees droning in theCrab Apple tree by the back gate, andwatch the robins crowding the branchesof the Mountain Ash, where the brightred berries cluster. I see the terriblebumble-bee bear down the Poppy on itsslender stem and go buzzing threaten-ingly away, all pollen-covered. And shining clear and true through themist I see her who was the Spirit of theGarden. There she stands, on the broadstep beside the bed where the Lilies ofthe Valley grew, leaning firmly upon herone crutch, looking out across her gardento each loved gro
. The long ago. flaming Cocks Comb by the little hear the honey-bees droning in theCrab Apple tree by the back gate, andwatch the robins crowding the branchesof the Mountain Ash, where the brightred berries cluster. I see the terriblebumble-bee bear down the Poppy on itsslender stem and go buzzing threaten-ingly away, all pollen-covered. And shining clear and true through themist I see her who was the Spirit of theGarden. There she stands, on the broadstep beside the bed where the Lilies ofthe Valley grew, leaning firmly upon herone crutch, looking out across her gardento each loved group of her flower-friends—smiling out upon them as she did eachday through fifty years—turning at lastinto the house and taking with her, inher heart, the glory of the Hollyhocksagainst the brick wall, the perfume of theNarcissus in the border, the wing-songof the humming-bird among the Honey-suckle, and the warmth of the glad TheRiver
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookidlongago01wri, bookyear1916
