Garden Poems from 1899, Part I

Last June, I shared an unusual item sent in by a woman whose grandmother created a poetry scrapbook and included in it some garden poems from Park's Floral Magazine. That particular post seems to get a lot of attention, so I thought I would share some more poems for gardeners, courtesy of my June 1899 edition. 

We'll start today with the saga of a resourceful Cyclamen that yearns to be loved:

A Cyclamen's Scheme

A Cyclamen sat on a sill,
    And pondered deep and long,
"I'm but a homely bulb," said he,
    "Although I'm fat and strong.
I have some blossoms rolled up here
    To make the family stare.
It takes so long to bring them out,
    I fear they will despair.

"If I could give them something nice
    To see in the meanwhile,
Perhaps they'd let me keep my place
    Nor think me quite so vile.
I know! I'll get the nicest leaves
    That ever I can find,
And when they think to throw me out
    Perhaps they'll change their mind.

"For fear that they may tire of leaves,
    The queerest buds I'll get,
In shape just like a blind duck's head,
    And then I'll cease to fret;
And when they all are quite convinced
    That leaves and buds are gems,
I'll hold up high above them all
    My flower diadems."

Said Mary, "What exquisite blooms!"
    Said John, "The leaves I like."
Said Jack, "Those queer-shaped buds, I think
    The most my fancy strike."
But little Nell put out her hand,
    And gave the bulb a pat,
"I like," said she, "the most of all
    The bulb so brown and fat."

And so the modest Cyclamen,
    By doing just his best,
Succeeded well in everything,
    And stood a fourfold test.

Dame Durden
Medina, Co. O.
Jan 21, 1899

Tomorrow, I have another short little poem to share, so stay tuned. And if you have favorite poems about gardening, flowers, or digging in the dirt, by all means, please send them to me at ckuhl@parkseed.com so we can all enjoy!