Robert (Rabbie) Burns (Born 1759 died 1796) was Scotland's greatest poet. Mostly, he wrote about the struggles of living and loving but he also penned a short song about gardening, which, I think, is quite appropriate for this time of the year!
When rosy May comes in with
flowers,
To deck her gay, green spreading bowers,
Then busy, busy are his hours,
The gardener with his spade.
The crystal waters gently fall,
The merry birds are lovers all,
The scented breezes round him bla'
The gardener with his spade.
When purple morning starts the hare,
To steal upon her early fare,
Then through the dew he must repair,
The gardener with his spade.
When day, expiring in the west,
The curtain draws o' Nature's rest,
He flies to her arms he loves the best,
The gardener with his spade.
