ANSALDO’S GARDEN.
Beautiful the hearts that keep
’Neath the frosts of age
Something of their youthful heat,
Tempered in its rage.
Teian-like, they laugh and sing,
Though the shadows gather;
For they feel the warmth of spring
In the wintry weather.
Minstrels ’neath the snows of time
Feel their bosoms glowing,
With a fervor as sublime
As when flowers were blowing.
Like to tomb-lamps’ beams, that spread
Lustre round decay,
To the last their hearts will shed
Sunlike haloes, fancies gay.
Thus Ansaldo’s garden bloomed,
June in January set,
While the frosty stars illumed
Orange leaf and mignonette.