By William H. Davies

When I can hear the small woodpeckers ring Time on a tree for all the birds that sing ; And hear the pleasant cuckoo, loud and long? The simple bird that thinks two notes a song.   


And here are butterflies: poor things Amazed with new-created wings; They in the air-waves roll distrest Like ships at sea; and when they rest They cannot help but ope and close Their wings, like babies with their toes.

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Words inspired by the garden are the sweetest, most beautiful words of all.
William Henry Davies
William Henry Davies