Our England is a garden, and such gardens are not made
By singing:—'Oh, how beautiful!' and sitting in the shade,
While better men than we go out and start their working lives
At grubbing weeds from gravel paths with broken dinner-knives.


'The Glory of the Garden' (1911)


Our England is a garden, and such gardens are not made By singing:—'Oh, how beautiful!' and sitting in the shade, While better men than we go out...

Our England is a garden, and such gardens are not made By singing:—'Oh, how beautiful!' and sitting in the shade, While better men than we go out...

Our England is a garden, and such gardens are not made By singing:—'Oh, how beautiful!' and sitting in the shade, While better men than we go out...

Our England is a garden, and such gardens are not made By singing:—'Oh, how beautiful!' and sitting in the shade, While better men than we go out...