Explore "The Lost Garden" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
There was a fair green garden sloping / From the south-east side of the mountain-ledge; / And the earliest tint of the dawn came groping / Down through its paths, from the day's dim edge. / The bluest skies and the reddest roses / Arched and varied its velvet sod; / And the glad birds sang, as the soul supposes / The angels sing on the hills of God.
I wandered there when my veins seemed bursting / With life's rare rapture and keen delight, / And yet in my heart was a constant thirsting / For something over the mountain-height. / I wanted to stand in the blaze of glory / That turned to crimson the peaks of snow, / And the winds from the west all breathed a story / Of realms and regions I longed to know.