There are gardens that remain unseen, One life is not enough to span the tide Of bed and leaf and bloom and all the green Wonder of this sacred mountainside.
There are flowers that I have not spoken to That bloom unknown to the unperceptive eye And fragrances distilled by morning dew As the seasons of my soul go fleeting by,
Music of the earth I have not heard The songs of distant seas that charm the ear That seeks from God a touch or living word And prays the silent mind His voice to hear.
Poems Undated (1727)
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