I have a little garden plot, ‘ Tis very small indeed; But yet it is a pleasant spot, And plenty large enough, I wot,
When out-door work I need. Two woodbines flourish at my door, And climb above its porch; One yields of grateful scent a store,
One flowers till all the summer's o'er And winter days approach. And o'er the walls grape vines are spread, Which bring delicious fruit;
These also sweetest odors shed, And please my senses till I'm led To hold them in repute. And then I have of peach trees three,
Which have begun to bear, And‘ tis a pleasing sight to see My somewhat numerous family All eager for a share.
Three apple trees I next would name, Though fruit they ne'er gave me; For this their tender age I blame, And other cause I cannot name,
And so I wait to see. Some berry trees I also boast, And these of different kinds. Of flowering shrubs I have a host,
Which did in cash and labor cost What might affright some minds. Four kinds of lilac here are grown, One double flowering cherry,
And weeping ditto, not much known; Eight different sorts of rose I own, And shrub that yields snowberry. Of lily yea, and crocus, too,
I've some varieties, And monkshood, pinks, and violets blue, Of double almonds not a few, With two kinds of peonies.
Some polyanthus and foxglove, Sea-pinks, and columbine, Sweet-scented tulips, which I love, Whose beauty has e'en power to move
A heart less fond than mine. The daisy and sunflower tall, Present a contrast great; One like to him who, proud in soul,
Expects his fellow men to fall Submissive at his feet. The other, like true modesty, Scarce lifts its lovely head
Lest you its secret charms should see — Just like a lovely maid, when she Is to vain-glory dead. Sweet-briar and sweet-william claim
A notice from my pen, For each of these can boast of fame;— Are better known than my poor name Among the race of men.
My hollyhocks and lichens fine, Spread out their charms to view, And other pretty flowers are mine — To speak whose praises I incline,
If but their names I knew. Of annuals I have but few, That fact I fully grant; Yet I have larkspur, pink and blue,
And double poppies of rich hue. To serve me while the summer's new I've beds of rhubarb plant. Some household herbs and fragrant thyme,
With lettuce, sage, and mint, Complete my stock; but had I time A lingering lesson swells my rhyme With many a moral hint.
That as we rear in summer's glow. Herbs, fruits and flowerets fair, So may we in our natures grow Sweet flowers that may hereafter blow
In Heaven's serener air.
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