No words that I can write|
Can ever express such bouquet,
The colour of nature's garden
And all her splendid array.
Of flowers, and gifts of colour
What a treasure trove to paint,
To breath, to touch such eloquence
Such benevolence to the artistic saint.
The trees of maple and of oak
The cherry and the fir,
Trees of class and breeding
On these we can all concur.
The sheep that are in grazing
Upon the green and pleasant earth,
While wild flowers wave in harmony
watching the sheep give birth.
Feathered friends build their nests
So come the spring of hope and glory,
will come new life in beautiful chicks
So that nature can tell it's own story.
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