THE perfume of the garden blows
Fill'd full with scent of musk and rose;
The little bay beneath us here
Is like a woman's jeweled hair,
Studded with sparkling shafts of light
Reflected from the diamond'd height.
And somewhere in the grove is heard
The passion of some ]ove-lorn bird;
And you, my dear, beside me here
With joy around us everywhere.
William Stanley Braithwaite
