My Garden This is my garden where the sun Goes forth the day in light re-run, With flowers that clasp with gentle hands, And soft caress of unknown lands.

I watch the bloom, it calls to me, With rustling leaves in rhythmic key; The fly and buzz and babble wide, While nature keeps her gentle side.

And so I plant, with gentle care, The hopes of all that grace my fare, That here I weave the heart of spring, And listen to the world’s sweet ring.

• Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr