It was one of those perfect English autumnal days which occur more frequently in memory than in life.

It was one of those perfect English autumnal days which occur more frequently in memory than in life.

I am a part of all you see
In Nature: part of all you feel:
I am read more

I am a part of all you see
In Nature: part of all you feel:
I am the impact of the bee
Upon the blossom; in the tree
I am the sap--that shall reveal
The leaf, the bloom--that flows and flutes
Up from the darkness through its roots.

I love to think of nature as an unlimited broadcasting station, through which God speaks to us every hour, if read more

I love to think of nature as an unlimited broadcasting station, through which God speaks to us every hour, if we only will tune in.

For myself I hold no preferences among flowers, so long as they are wild, free, spontaneous. Bricks to all greenhouses! read more

For myself I hold no preferences among flowers, so long as they are wild, free, spontaneous. Bricks to all greenhouses! Black thumb and cutworm to the potted plant!

The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers.

The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers.

Knowing trees, I understand the meaning of patience. Knowing grass, I can appreciate persistence.

Knowing trees, I understand the meaning of patience. Knowing grass, I can appreciate persistence.

Nature does not complete things. She is chaotic. Man must finish, and he does so by making a garden and read more

Nature does not complete things. She is chaotic. Man must finish, and he does so by making a garden and building a wall.

This very moment is a seed from which the flowers of tomorrow's happiness grow.

This very moment is a seed from which the flowers of tomorrow's happiness grow.

At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still
And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove,
read more

At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still
And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove,
When nought but the torrent is heard on the hill
And nought but the nightingale's song in the grove.