And myrtles close meander.
What's next to come, one may not know--
But then I like surprises:
Just here, where tender roses blow,
A tiger-lily rises.
Here cock's-comb flaunts, and columbine
Stands shaded by sweetbrier,
And marigolds and poppies shine
Like beds of glowing fire.
A group of honest sunflowers tall
Keep sentry in yon corner;
And close beside them on the wall,
The peacock, strutting scorner,
Spreads out his rainbow plumes alone,
Or stoops to pick a berry,
Where briers climb the mossy stone
Beneath those clumps of cherry.
Now we'll turn back: you've seen but few
Of my old-fashioned beauties,
But take away a nosegay new
To cheer you at your duties;
Take pansies and forget-me-nots;
Pluck pinks, bluebells, and roses,
And tell me if you know a spot
Where flourish fairer posies.
Grandma herself no lovelier ground
This side of paradise has found.


M.A.C.