The Little Garden

A little garden on a bleak hillside
Where deep the heavy, dazzling mountain snow
Lies far into the spring. The sun's pale glow
Is scarcely able to melt patches wide
About the single rose bush. All denied
Of nature's tender ministries. But no, --
For wonder-working faith has made it blow
With flowers many hued and starry-eyed.
Here sleeps the sun long, idle summer hours;
Here butterflies and bees fare far to rove
Amid the crumpled leaves of poppy flowers;
Here four o'clocks, to the passionate night above
Fling whiffs of perfume, like pale incense showers.
A little garden, loved with a great love! 

-Amy Lowell

Please be my guest and make a selection from the places listed below. I wish for thee harmony and peace during your walk through me rose garden.

Please pardon the mess, but I be in the process of rearranging and adding unto me estate. Stop by again soon and visit me humble additions. My many thanks good gentle folk.

Belero (short version): Ravel