Nature
The Garden
Nature
Many things the garden shows,
And pleased I stray
From tree to tree
Watching the white pear-bloom,
Bee-infested quince or plum.
I could walk days, years, away
Till the slow ripening, secular tree
Had reached its fruiting-time,
Nor think it long.
Solar insect on the wing
In the garden murmuring,
Soothing with thy summer horn
Swains by winter pinched and worn.
Cite this poem
MLA
Emerson, Ralph Waldo. “The Garden.” Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/emerson/154/.
Chicago
Emerson, Ralph Waldo. “The Garden.” Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/emerson/154/.
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