There is a heaven in the low gardens—
A brighter way among those who will toil,
And deepest music wafts above and below,
The songs in bird are like the colours in flower,
In green alms of tendril arms so aimed to disarm,
Are petals of flag, wings wanding, reign of pollens,
Flowers loud, entreating as birds calm— release us
And always, beams of sun shower those with light,
Many who come are want to linger— everlasting,
The heart is there— on wing with soul learning.