Poem April 3, 1902 Issue

My Garden of Thought

BY A. E. J.

I HAD a garden beautiful
Filled with the fairest flowers,
But ugly weeds had grown there,
In thoughtless, idle hours.
So tad and very thick they grew,
The flowers were quite concealed,
And I was forced to push them by
To have my flowers revealed,
But in my utter carelessness
I seldom looked within,
Nor cared to stop and think what once
My garden must have been,
But one day a sweet soul passed by.
And sorrowing at the sight,
Taught me just how to clear away,
My garden's loathsome blight.
So day by day I pluck some weed :—
Envy, remorse, despair,—

Now selfishness is weeded out,
Now fear, now hate, now care,
My task is slow, but I rejoice
To see the flowers thrive.
Fearlessness and happiness and peace
Are once more alive.
So joyfully I labor in my garden every day,
And patiently I work and strive,
To clear the weeds away.