A Gentle Voice from the Garden: Elizabeth Roberts MacDonald

November 8, 1922

On this day, as the last mountain ash berries gleam against pewter skies, we remember Elizabeth Roberts MacDonald, whose poetic voice still echoes through the gardens of Maritime Canada. Today marks the anniversary of her passing in 1922 after complications from a fall, but her garden legacy continues to bloom in the hearts of those who tend both soil and verse. 

A dear voice from Canada's garden of poetry - Elizabeth Roberts MacDonald was born in the "Old Rectory" at Westcock, New Brunswick, on February 17, 1864. 

She grew up in an extraordinary literary environment.

As a member of the celebrated Roberts family of writers — they were often referred to as Canada's "Nest of Singing Birds" — Elizabeth was the gentle heart of the family and carved out her own significant legacy in Canadian literature and social progress.

The Roberts family home became a crucible of creativity, where winter evenings were spent around the great center table, sharing stories and poems, and summer days unfolded in their fragrant garden—a setting that would later inspire much of her work.

Today, the old Rectory garden at Westcock holds secrets that only time and tender memories can reveal.

Here, among heritage roses and ancient apple trees, the Roberts children created their own literary Eden. Elizabeth, though often confined by delicate health, made this garden her particular kingdom.

The plants that grew there still speak to modern gardeners:

• Woodbine (Virginia Creeper) draped the eaves in autumn crimson
• Heritage roses climbed weathered trellises
• Flowering quince brightened spring mornings
• Ancient apple trees provided shade for poetry readings
• Hemlock boughs decorated winter gatherings

The garden at Westcock wasn't just any Maritime garden - it was a living laboratory that helped shape Canadian literature. The children's mother, Emma Wetmore Bliss Roberts, came from a distinguished family of gardeners and writers. The Bliss family had long maintained elegant gardens in New Brunswick, bringing with them the finest horticultural traditions of their Loyalist heritage.

In this garden, Elizabeth would often sit with her cousin Bliss Carman, who would later become one of Canada's most celebrated poets. Together they watched the seasons pass, capturing each change in carefully crafted verse.

In this enchanted space, the Roberts children would gather on warm summer evenings and stretch out on the lawn beneath the nodding flowers while their dear old dog Nestor wandered among them for an occasional pat.

While her brothers might race about the grounds in boisterous play, Elizabeth, though often too fragile for such adventures, would sit in the garden, weaving its magic into her verses among the "time-forgotten flowers," as her sister so beautifully described them.

Her mother, Emma, would often join her there, setting aside her mending basket to share in her daughter's delight at a new-bloomed flower or a visiting bird.

Like so many of us who find our deepest joy in tending both gardens and words, Elizabeth understood the profound connection between nature's rhythms and the human heart. Her poetry bloomed like the flowers she loved, each verse carefully tended and nurtured.

Listen to Elizabeth's celebration of the four seasons, so familiar to every gardener:

Sing a song of Spring-time!
Catkins by the brook,
Adders-tongues uncounted,
Ferns in every nook;
The cataract on the hillside
Leaping like a fawn;
Sing a song of Spring-time,—

Ah, but Spring-time ’s gone!

Sing a song of Summer!
Flowers among the grass,
Clouds like fairy frigates,
Pools like looking-glass,
Moonlight through the branches,
Voices on the lawn;
Sing a song of Summer,—

    Ah, but Summer ’s gone!

Sing a song of Autumn!
Grain in golden sheaves,
Woodbine’s crimson clusters
Round the cottage eaves,
Days of crystal clearness,
Frosted fields at dawn;
Sing a song of Autumn,—

    Ah, but Autumn ’s gone!

Sing a song of Winter!
North-wind’s bitter chill,
Home and ruddy firelight,
Kindness and good-will,
Hemlock in the churches,
Daytime soon withdrawn;
Sing a song of Winter,—

    Ah, but Winter ’s gone!

Sing a song of loving!
Let the seasons go;
Hearts can make their gardens
Under sun or snow;
Fear no fading blossom,
Nor the dying day;
Sing a song of loving,—

    That will last for aye!

Oh, how those words resonate with every gardener who has watched the seasons slip by like pages in nature's album!

Elizabeth's influence on Canadian garden writing cannot be overstated. She brought a gentler perspective to nature writing, focusing not just on the wild landscapes her brothers celebrated, but on the intimate spaces of cultivated gardens. Her work bridged the gap between wilderness and domesticity, showing how gardens could be both sanctuary and inspiration.

In her poem "Slumber-Song," we see how she wove together images of garden peace with human comfort:

Hushed, hushed the night comes, Day's cares are ended,
Put by your heavy thoughts, Rest, dusk-befriended;
Softly my voice shall weave White webs of sleep,
Soothing you, folding you, Peaceful and deep...

Elizabeth's contributions to Canadian literature were both diverse and distinctive.

Her poetry appeared in prestigious publications, including The Century Magazine, The Independent, and Outing.

In 1906, she published Dream Verses and Others, a collection that showcased her keen observation of nature and delicate handling of emotional themes.

Her work was characterized by:

• Vivid natural imagery
• Exploration of seasonal changes
• Themes of resilience and hope
• Celebration of Canadian landscapes
• Interweaving of domestic and wild spaces

Like the perennials we treasure in our gardens, Elizabeth's work continues to flower year after year.

Her poem, Mountain-Ash, speaks to every gardener who has blessed the bright berries that light our winter gardens:

All the hills are dark,
Sombre clouds afloat;
Sunlight, not a spark,
Birdsong, not a note;
Only, through the blight,
Facing winter's night,
Flaunts the mountain-ash
Scarlet berries bright.

Like a flame of love,
Like a lilt of song
Lifted sheer above

Cares that press and throng,
Through the darkling day,-
Scarlet set in grey-
Splendid mountain-ash
Gleams along the way.