A Victorian Ode to May: Phebe Holder’s Botanical Poetry

On This Day
This botanical history post was featured on The Daily Gardener podcast:

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May 1, 1890

On this day in horticultural history, the enchanting poem "A Song of May" by the esteemed New England poet and gardener Phebe Holder graced the pages of newspapers, captivating readers with its exquisite portrayal of spring's delicate beauty.

Phebe, a remarkable Victorian talent whose verses I hold in the highest regard, possessed an extraordinary gift for weaving together religious themes and the natural world in her poetry.

Her works, particularly those celebrating the verdant splendor of spring and the golden hues of autumn, have long been a source of delight for gardeners and nature enthusiasts alike.

It is with great pleasure that I share with you, dear readers, Phebe's "A Song of May," a piece that so beautifully captures the essence of this most glorious month in the garden:

What song hast thou, sweet May, for me,
My listening ear what song for thee?

A song of life from growing things,
The life thy gentle presence brings;

The tender light of budding spray.
The blooming down on willow grey,

The living green that earth overspreads,
The creamy flowers on mossy beds.

From blossoms pure with petals white
As pressed from out the moonbeam's light.

The fragrant lily of the vale,
The violet's breath on passing gale:

Anemones mid last year's leaves,
Arbutus sweet in trailing wreaths,

From waving lights of forest glade
The light ferns hiding neath the shade.

A song of joy from wood and plain,
From birds in old-time haunts again;

The silvery laugh of tuneful rill
O'er rocky bed, down craggy hill;

Soft coming of warm dropping showers,
The sighing wind in piney bowers;

The music breathed by low-voiced waves,
For listening, from ocean caves,

A plaintive strain doth memory sing,
A breathing of departed Spring:

An unseen Presence in the home,
A spirit voice-"The Master's come!".

While hearts in tender sorrow wept
O'er one beloved who silent slept,

Who in the May-time long ago
Passed the pearl gates of glory through.

A grateful song, our God, to Thee
For treasures of the earth and sea;

For all the beauty Thou hast given;
A dream to loving hearts, of heaven;

A song of life, of joy, of love,
Of trust, of faith in light adore

This offering on thy shrine I lay;
This song hast thou for me, sweet May.

Phebe's verses paint a vivid tapestry of May's botanical wonders, each line a brushstroke of nature's palette.

In the second stanza, she pays homage to a veritable parade of spring beauties: the demure Lily of the Valley, with its delicate bells; the sweet-scented violet, its perfume carried on the breeze; the graceful anemone, nodding amidst last year's fallen leaves; and the charming Mayflower, also known as trailing arbutus, its pink blossoms a harbinger of warmer days.

But let us not overlook the ferns, those ancient and elegant plants that unfurl their fronds with such quiet dignity. As May progresses, these verdant sentinels begin to dominate the woodland floor and shaded understories. It is a transformation most magical to behold - the forest awakens from its winter slumber, shrugging off the drab browns of fallen leaves to don a vibrant cloak of green adorned with a multitude of delicate blossoms.

Indeed, the speed at which this metamorphosis occurs is nothing short of remarkable. One day, the ground lies dormant; the next, it teems with life, a testament to the irrepressible vigor of spring. It is precisely this rapid awakening that Phebe captures so eloquently in her verses, reminding us of the cyclical nature of life and the perennial hope that spring brings.

As we tend to our own gardens this May, let us take a moment to observe and appreciate the subtle changes occurring around us, just as Phebe did over a century ago. For in doing so, we connect not only with the natural world but with the long line of gardeners and poets who have found inspiration in the quiet beauty of a spring day.

Phebe Ann Holder
Phebe Ann Holder

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