Classic Poem

I stand within my garden fair
Where flowers in joyous beauty spring,
Their fragrance mingles in the air,
The birds most sweetly sing.

And in that spot a lonely mound,
Spread o'er with grasses heavily,
My infant sleeps within the ground,
Nor may the garden see.

The wind sighs sadly, and the sun
Shines down to dazzle weary eyes;
That buried form the truest one,
The rest its mockeries.