19th century newspaper poets — ‘The Sleeping Garden’

The timing of publication of the poem “The Sleeping Garden” in The Commercial Advertiser of Sandy Hill on June 8,1881 would seem to be an editorial statement validating the reliability of the divine role in the cycle of changing seasons..

The unidentified poet, on a snowy day, grieved the loss of perennial flowers, and concluded that divine intervention would be necessary to bring them back into bloom.

Indeed, the weather report in the same issue celebrated the wonder of rebirth.

“The recent showers have given vegetables a wonderful start. Farmers expect a bountiful harvest this year.”

“The Sleeping Garden”

“In summer time how fair it showed! —

My garden by the village road.

Where fiery stalks of blossom glowed,

The roses softly blushed.

With azure spires, and garlands white,

Pale heliotropes, the sun’s delight.

And odors that perfumed the night,

Where ‘er the south wind rushed.”

“There solemn purple pansies stood,’

Gay tulips red with floral blood.

And wild things fresh from field and wood,

Alive with dainty grace.

Deep heaven bluebells of columbine,

The darkly mystic passion vine.

And Clements, that love to twine,

Bedecked that happy place.”

“Beneath the strong unclouded blaze.

Of long and fervent summer days,

Their colors smote the passing gaze,

And dazzled every eye.

Their cups of scented honey dew,

Charmed all the bees that ever flew.

And butterflies of radiant hue,

Paused as they floated by.”

“Now falls a cloud of sailing snow,

The bitter winds of winter blow.

No blossom dares its cup to shower.

Earth folds them in the breast,

A shroud of white, a virgin pall,

Is slowly softly, hiding all.

In vain shall any sweet wind call,

To break their silent rest.”

“My garden is a vanished dream,

Dead in the waning month’s cold beam.

Clear icicles above it gleam.

And yet I know not how,

My flowers will hear the dropping rain,

When spring reneweth hill and plain.

And then it shall be mine again.”

“It is God’s garden now.”

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