Daily Garden Reflections

Love planted a rose and the world turned sweet. Where the wheat-field blows, love planted a rose up the mill-wheel's prose.

Plant seeds of happiness, hope, success and love; it will all come back to you in abundance. This is the law of nature.

Let us live so that flower by flower, shutting in turn, may leave a lingerer still for the sunset hour, a charm for the shaded eve.

Let life lightly wear her crown, like a poppy looking down, when its heart is filled with dew and its life begins anew.

They are not dead, whom still it keeps in mind. This garden, planted by some lovely hand, that keeps it fragrant with its memory.

Today the glint of green is there. Tomorrow will be leaflets spare; I know nothing so wondrous fair, no miracle so strangely rare.

My soul is like a garden-close where marjoram and lilac grow, where soft the scent of long ago over the border lightly blows.

I who kept the greenhouse, lover of trees and flowers, oft in life saw this umbrageous elm, measuring its generous branches.

A bird came down the walk. He drank a dew from a convenient grass and then hopped sidewise to the wall to let a beetle pass.

I saw the sweetest flower wild nature yields, a fresh-blown musk-rose; 'twas the first that threw its sweets upon the summer.

Large flocks of butterflies, all kinds of happy insects, seem to be in a perfect fever of joy and sportive gladness.

Never, never may the fruit be plucked from the bough and gathered into barrels. He that would eat of love must eat it where it hangs.