MY heart is a garden of dreams
Where you walk when day is done,
Fair as the royal flowers,
Calm as the lingering sun.
Never a drouth comes there,
Nor any frost that mars,
Nor any frost that mars,
Only the wind of love
Under the early stars,—
Under the early stars,—
The living breath that moves
Whispering to and fro,
Whispering to and fro,
Like the voice of God in the dusk
Of the garden long ago.