A Prayer in a Garden

Where this garden's walks are strewn
With the scarlet hopes of June —

Poppy-petals, rose-bloom tears —
Sun-dreams of a thousand years;

Let me lie till time is done,
Soft wrapt in dusk oblivion.

Let me lie, and dream, perchance,
Dim dreams of olden-time romance.

Let every golden lily blow
With some old tale of long ago —

Some lilt of swords, some song of love,
Some ballad to a lady's glove.

So let me sleep till time is done —
Till all the varied sands are run,

And Life forgets to turn the glass,
And drops his jester-bells, alas!

So let me dream, till these are done,
Soft wrapt in dusk oblivion.
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