The Sensitive Plant

The Sensitive Plant

by Percy Bysshe Shelley A Sensitive Plant in a garden grew,  And the young winds fed it with silver dew,  And it opened its fan-like leaves to the light,  And closed them beneath the kisses of night. The snowdrop, and then the violet,  Arose from the ground with warm rain wet, Then the pied wind-flowers…

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The Cold Earth Slept Below

The Cold Earth Slept Below

by Percy Bysshe Shelley The cold earth slept below; Above the cold sky shone; And all around, With a chilling sound, From caves of ice and fields of snow The breath of night like death did flow Beneath the sinking moon. The moon made thy lips pale, beloved; The wind made thy bosom chill; The…

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January Gray is Here

January Gray is Here

by Percy Bysshe Shelley January gray is here, Like a sexton by her grave; February bears the bier, March with grief doth howl and rave, And April weeps—but, O ye hours! Follow with May’s fairest flowers. As featured onThe Daily Gardener podcast: Words inspired by the garden are the sweetest, most beautiful words of all.

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