Paths

I     What words of mine can tell the spell     Of garden ways I know so well? -     The path that takes me in the spring     Past quince-trees where the bluebirds sing,     And peonies are blossoming,     Unto a porch, wistaria-hung,     Around whose steps May-lilies blow,     A fair girl reaches down among,     Her arm more white than their sweet snow. II     What words of mine can tell the spell     Of garden ways I know so well? -     Another path that leads me, when     The summer time is here again,     Past hollyhocks that shame the west     When the red sun has sunk to rest;     To roses bowering a nest,     A lattice, 'neath which mignonette     And deep geraniums surge and sough,     Where, in the twilight, starless yet,     A fair girl's eyes are stars enough. III     What words of mine can tell the spell     Of garden ways I know so well? -     A path that takes me, when the days     Of autumn wrap the hills in haze,     Beneath the pippin-pelting tree,     'Mid flitting butterfly and bee;     Unto a door where, fiery,     The creeper climbs; and, garnet-hued,     The cock's-comb and the dahlia flare,     And in the door, where shades intrude,     Gleams bright a fair girl's sunbeam hair. IV     What words of mine can tell the spell     Of garden ways I know so well? -     A path that brings me through the frost     Of winter, when the moon is tossed     In clouds; beneath great cedars, weak     With shaggy snow; past shrubs blown bleak     With shivering leaves; to eaves that leak     The tattered ice, whereunder is     A fire-flickering window-space;     And in the light, with lips to kiss,     A fair girl's welcome-smiling face.