To-day as I sit by my window With an unread book in my hand, My hollyhocks close by the lattice Are beautiful and grand. I think of an old-time garden, No other flowers were there, Except the hollyhocks growing Without tending, thought or care. They were masses of bloom in summer, So beautiful and so high, And swayed and nodded coyly To all the passers-by. The house that stood in that garden -- Its keeper is dead and gone! -- But around it still in summer time The hollyhocks bloom on. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FUTURE LIFE by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE MARTYRS OF THE MAINE by RUPERT HUGHES A MAN BY THE NAME OF BOLUS by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY THE LORDS OF THE MAIN by JOSEPH STANSBURY THE SEARCH FOR LEAVEN by ALTER ABELSON ABBEY ASAROE by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM QUATORZAINS: 7. ANOTHER FANTASTIC SIMILE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |