One gardener's observations, discoveries and random thoughts whilst simultaneously worshipping and dallying in a Cape Cod garden. "A garden," said Ralph Waldo Emerson, "is like those pernicious machineries which catch a man's coatskirt or his hand, and draw in his arm, his leg and his whole body to irresistable destruction."

Springing Back to Life

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From you have I been absent in the spring,
When proud pied April, dressed in all his trim,

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Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing,
That heavy Saturn laughed and leapt with him.

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Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell
Of different flowers in odour and in hue,

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Could make me any summer’s story tell,
Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew:

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Nor did I wonder at the lily’s white,
Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;

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They were but sweet, but figures of delight,
Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.

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Yet seemed it winter still, and you away,
As with your shadow I with these did play.

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Sonnet 98, William Shakespeare.

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Comments on: "Springing Back to Life" (1)

  1. Ah, Spring! Welcome back, both Spring, and Greg!

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