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Shirley Hibberd (Amid my garden's broider'd)

"Amid my garden's broider'd paths I trod, And there my mind soon caught her favourite clue; I seem'd to stand amid the church of God, And flowers were preachers, and (still stranger) drew From their own life and course The love they would enforce; And sound their doctrine was, and every precept true. * * * * * * Then cried the garden's host with one consent: Come, man, and see how, day by day, we shoot, For every hour of rain, and sunshine lent, Deepen our glowing hues, and drive our root; And, as our heads we lift, Record each added gift, And bear to God's high will, and man's support, our fruit." EVANS, Garden Lecture.

Third Series.