Gardening imparts an organic perspective on the passage of time.

Trials make the promise sweet, Trials give new life to prayer; Trials bring me to His feet, Lay me low, and keep me there.

But slaves that once conceive the glowing thought Of freedom, in that hope itself possess All that the contest calls for; spirit, strength, The scorn of danger, and united hearts, The surest presage of the good they seek.

Blest be the art that can immortalize,--the art that baffles time's tyrannic claim to quench it.

Habits are soon assumed; but when we strive to strip them off, 'tis being flayed alive.

But still remember, if you mean to please, To press your point with modesty and ease.

Remorse, the fatal egg that pleasure laid.