Classic Poem

Her heart is like a garden fair
Where many pleasant blossoms grow;
But though I sometimes enter there,
There is one path I do not know.

The way I go to find it lies
Through dewy beds of violet;
Those are the portals of her eyes,
Where modesty and truth are set.

And just behind, a hedge is placed—
A hedge of lilies, tall and white.
Those are her maiden thoughts, so chaste
I almost tremble in their sight.

But shining through them, and above—
Half-hid, but trembling to unfold—
I spy the roses of her love,
And then again I grow more bold.

So, half in prayer, I seek and wait
To find the secret path that goes
Up from the lily-guarded gate
To her heart's garden of the rose.