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GARDEN SONG, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: A gray cloud covers the coming morn
Last Line: "still death is death while the breezes blow."
Alternate Author Name(s): Hooker, Brian
Subject(s): Gardens & Gardening; Yale University


A GRAY cloud covers the coming morn
With the hush of a haunting dread.
The cold wind bites like the blast of scorn
And the dawn lies dead --
And the joy of the dawn lies dead --
But the lord of day hath rent his way
And flooded the fields with a golden glow,
And the wraith-white mists are captive borne,
And the tall bright lily laughs "No, no --
Life yet is life while the breezes blow."

The great sun throbs in a purple sky
To the tramp of the marching hours,
And the bright bees labor and strive and die
O'er the hot, faint flowers;
O'er the hot and thirsty flowers;
But the calm brown pool is dark and cool
Where the brooklet ripples its laughter low,
And under the moss where the shadows lie
Shyly the violet breathes: "Ah, no --
Love yet is love while the breezes blow."

The dim hills blush in the rosy gleam
At the gates of the wondrous west,
And the night comes down like a sick girl's dream
Of long sweet rest --
Of love and joyous rest;
But a chill wind flies from the fading skies
With a shiver of fear and a wail of woe,
And the hemlock branches writhe and stream
And the blood-red poppy sighs: "Not so,
Still death is death while the breezes blow."





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