“Thought, stumbling, plods Past fallen temples, vanished gods, Altars unincensed, fanes undecked, Eternal systems flown or wrecked; Through trackless centuries that grant To the poor trudge refreshment scant, Age after age, pants on to find A melting mirage of the mind.” MindAgePastPoorCenturyEternalFallenTemplesGrantsPantsAltarsMeltingStumblingMiragesRefreshments Book:At the Gate of the Convent: And Other Poems Source: At the Gate of the Convent: And Other Poems
“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. Share the botanical bliss of gardeners through the ages, who have cultivated philosophies to apply to their own - and our own - lives: Show me your garden and I shall tell you what you are.” HeartSoulPhilosophyShowsBodyHandsAgeSpiritualitySunShareGloryGardenBlissGardeningDirtNurtureShow MeGardener Author:Alfred Austin
