gardens - Popular Poems and stories from category

In this lone, open glade I lie,
Screen'd by deep boughs on either hand;
And at its end, to stay the eye,
Those black-crown'd, red-boled pine-trees stand

HE smell of birds' nests faintly burning Is autumn
In the autumn I came Where spring had used me better, To the clear red pebbles and the men of stone And foundered beetles, to the broken Meleager And thousands of white circles drifting past,...

Luxurious Man, to bring his Vice in use,
Did after him the World seduce:
And from the Fields the Flow'rs and Plants allure,
Where Nature was most plain and pure