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Home  »  An American Anthology, 1787–1900  »  1147 The Garden Where There Is No Winter

Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.

By Louis JamesBlock

1147 The Garden Where There Is No Winter

BEHOLD the portal: open wide it stands,

And the long reaches shine and still allure

To seek their nobler depths serene, secure,

And watch the waters kiss the yellow sands

That gentle winds stir with their sweet commands;

These stately growths from age to age endure,

These splendid blooms glow in the sunlight pure,

These wondrous works of human hearts and hands.

Over the charmëd space no storm may rest,

The gloomy hours avoid the magic bound,

Homer dwells here, Vergil, and all the blest

Whose perfumed color lights Time’s mighty round;

Pluck the fruit freely, reader, and partake,

God wills it—for the enchanted Soul’s fair sake.