IN GRANDMOTHER'S GARDEN

 

IN GRANDMOTHER'S GARDEN - A POEM

Yesterday I went roaming, 
Along with memory; 

Of all my boon companions 

The pleasantest is she; 

Whenever we walk together, 

I let her lead the way,

And back to grandmother's garden 

She took me, yesterday.

Back to the dear old garden 

I had left so long ago, 

Whose flowers seem the sweetest 

Of all the flowers that blow- 

Lilac and Rose and Lily, 

Woodbine and Eglantere, 

The dear, old fashioned flowers 

That grandmother planted there.

They nodded a cheery welcome, 

They reached out friendly hands, 

And spoke in the wordless language 

He who loves them understands; 

And so we whispered together 

Of the dear days that had fled, 

As old friends do at meeting, 

Of the living and the dead.  

They told me of grandmother's going 

Away from the dear, old home, 

To the land she used to dream of 

When her thoughts would heavenward roam; 

There were her dear ones waiting, 

Where the fadeless gardens are, 

And with love to bridge the distance,

God's world could not seem far. 

They told me how they had missed her, 

And how, each year, they gave 

Their fairest and sweetest flowers, 

To grow about her grave. 

True to their olden friendship, 

The flowers have not forgot, 

And grandmother thinks, in heaven, 

I know, of this dear old spot. 

From grandmother's dear old garden 

I brought a fragrant store- 

Lilacs and Damask Roses, 

From the bushes by the door, 

Pinks, and a faded Lily, 

Whose youth, like mine, had fled, 

And Rosemary, for remembrance 

Of the days and the friends that are dead. 

                EBEN E, REXFORD 

References:

1. Illustrated Vick's Magazine 1884

2. THE ILLUSTRATED LONDON ALMANACK FOR 1868