Unearthed Words
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Unearthed Words
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All the words shared on The Daily Gardener podcast.
A floral elegy: John Milton’s garden tribute in Lycidas
by John Milton Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, The tufted crow-toe, and pale gessamine, The white pink, and the pansy freaked with jet, The glowing violet, The musk-rose, and the well-attired woodbine, With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, And every flower that sad embroidery wears: Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed,…
The legend of the loganberry: Morris Bishop’s playful garden tale
by Morris Bishop A rose once bloomed in a garden, White and dainty and fair, By the garden wall at evenfall It dreamed and nodded there; And a raspberry bush climbed over the wall And hung in a rakish pose; “Haven’t we met somewhere, my pet?” The raspberry said to the rose. The pure white…
The mistletoe’s promise: Henry Rowland Brown on Christmas Eve
by Henry Rowland Brown There’s a sound of a festive morrow, It rings with delight over the snow, Dispelling the shadows of sorrow With promise that makes the heart glow… An angel peeps in at the window, And smiles as he looketh around, And kisses the mistletoe berries That wave o’er the love-hallowed ground. As…
The road through winter: Arthur St. John Adcock on journeys renewed
by Arthur St. John Adcock The way that leads to winter Will lead to summer too, For all roads end in other roads Where we may start anew. As featured onThe Daily Gardener podcast: Words inspired by the garden are the sweetest, most beautiful words of all.
The garden year in verse: Sara Coleridge’s twelve months of nature
by Sara Coleridge January brings the snow, Makes our feet and fingers glow. February brings the rain, Thaws the frozen lake again. March brings breezes, loud and shrill, To stir the dancing daffodil. April brings the primrose sweet, Scatters daisies at our feet. May brings flocks of pretty lambs Skipping by their fleecy dams. June…
Roses in December: J.M. Barrie on memory and bloom
by James Matthew Barrie, Scottish novelist, playwright, and the creator of Peter Pan God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December. As featured onThe Daily Gardener podcast: Words inspired by the garden are the sweetest, most beautiful words of all.
The bramble flower remembered: Ebenezer Elliott’s wild rose of December
by Ebenezer Elliott Thy fruit full well the schoolboy knows, Wild Brambles of the brake! So put thou forth thy small white rose; I love it for his sake. Today is the anniversary of the death of the English poet Ebenezer Elliott who died on this day, December 1, 1849. …
The Healing Powers of Flowers
by Charlotte Fiske Bates Although the heart is very sore from loss, Yet there are healing powers; It eases much the burden of a cross To cover it with flowers. Faith, hope, and love – the blossoms of the three Help heal the hurt of our humanity. Today is…
Suspicions
by Charlotte Fiske Bates Of those that make our honey, it is known That feared and beaten back, they turn and sting. While, fearlessly, if they are let alone, In time they fly away on harmless wing. And so suspicions buzz like angry bees: Do they torment you with their threatened stings? Oh!…
Woodbines in October
by Charlotte Fiske Bates As dyed in blood, the streaming vines appear, While long and low, the wind about them grieves. The heart of autumn must have broken here And poured its treasure out upon the leaves. Today is the birthday of the American writer and poet Charlotte Fiske…
Charlotte Fiske Bates: Flowers of Healing, Bees of Suspicion, and Autumn Woodbines
Today’s Garden Words were featured on The Daily Gardener podcast: Click here to see the complete show notes for this episode. Words inspired by the garden are the sweetest, most beautiful words of all. Charlotte Fiske Bates November 30, 2020 Today, we celebrate the birthday of Charlotte Fiske Bates, born on this day in 1838.…
A Song of May
by Phebe Ann Holder 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 a forest glade The light ferns hide beneath the shade. – Phebe Ann Holder, New England poet, A Song of May November 27,…
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