Exclusiveness In A Garden Is

The Bright Incarnate Spirit Of The Morn.

Tears Are Summer Showers To The Soul.

My Virgin Sense Of Sound Was Steeped In The Music Of Young Streams; And Roses Through The Casement Peeped, And Scented All My Dreams.

There Is No Gardening Without Humility

He Is Dead Already Who Doth Not Feel Life Is Worth Living Still.