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O flowers of the garden,
of skilled and human care,
Sweet heliotrope, and violet,
and orchid frail and fair,
Pour out your love to happier hearts;
the woodland flowers for me,
The pallid, creamy blossoms
of the dark magnolia tree!
I close my eyes; my soul lifts up
to float with their perfume,
And dull the body lying
in this narrow city room.
Again I am a happy child.
I leap and joy to see
The great curved petals wavering slip
from out the gleaming tree.
As holy grail, or pearl inwrought,
or carven ivory cup,
They stand on bronze and emerald bough,
and brim their sweetness up;
And underneath a happy child!
O days that used to be!
In distant land, the flowers still stand
upon the dark green tree.
Poem by Mary McNeil Fenollosa
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