Quote

There is no gardening without humility. Nature is constantly sending even its oldest scholars to the bottom of the class for some egregious blunder.

Alfred Austin

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Alfred Austin
Age: 78 †
Born: 1835
Born: May 30
Died: 1913
Died: June 2
Journalist
Novelist
Poet
Writer
Class
Sending
Nature
Gardening
Without
Scholar
Egregious
Even
Educational
Blunder
Constantly
Blunders
Humility
Scholars
Bottom
Oldest
Garden
Gardener

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From sunny woof and cloudy weft Fell rain in sheets so, to myself I hummed these hazard rhymes, and left The learned volume on the shelf.
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Life seems like a haunted wood, where we tremble and crouch and cry.
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Is life worth living? Yes, so long as there is wrong to right. So long as faith with freedom reigns and loyal hope survives, And gracious charity remains to leaven lowly lives While there is only one untrodden tract for intellect or will, And men are free to think and act, Life is worth living still.
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No verse which is unmusical or obscure can be regarded as poetry whatever other qualities it may possess.
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The bright incarnate spirit of the Morn.
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Falling stars are high examples sent To warn, not lure. Gross fancy says they are Substantial meteors but that is not so. They are the merest phantasies of Night, When she's asleep, and, dimly visited By past effects, she dreams of Lucifer Hurled out of Heaven.
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The glory of gardening: hands in the dirt, head in the sun, heart with nature. To nurture a garden is to feed not just on the body, but the soul.
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Though my verse but roam the air And murmur in the trees, You may discern a purpose there, As in music of the bees.
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Through the dripping weeks that follow One another slow, and soak Summer's extinguished fire and autumn's drifting smoke.
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Pale January lay In its cradle day by day Dead or living, hard to say.
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Exclusiveness in a garden is a mistake as great as it is in society.
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When held up to the window pane, What fixed my baby stare? The glory of the glittering rain, And newness everywhere.
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Faded smiles oft linger in the face, While grief's first flakes fall silent on the heart!
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There is no gardening without humility
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Doth Nature draw me, 'tis because, Unto my seeming, there doth lurk A lawlessness about her laws, More mood than purpose in her work.
Alfred Austin
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So, timely you came, and well you chose, You came when most needed, my winter rose. From the snow I pluck you, and fondly press Your leaves 'twixt the leaves of my leaflessness.
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If Nature built by rule and square, Than man what wiser would she be? What wins us is her careless care, And sweet unpunctuality.
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Where has thou been all the dumb winter days When neither sunlight was nor smile of flowers, Neither life, nor love, nor frolic, Only expanse melancholic, With never a note of thy exhilarating lays?
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He is dead already who doth not feel Life is worth living still.
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In vain would science scan and trace Firmly her aspect. All the while, There gleams upon her far-off face A vague unfathomable smile.
Alfred Austin