My Photo Journal: To Rose (1)

Photo © FieldandGarden.com. Printable copy without a watermark here.

Above, you can find a lovely nature poem entitled "To Rose" by William T. Saward, originally published in 1897. You can download a printable copy of the poem as a 5.5" x 3" @ 300 ppi JPEG here.

I am also including an initial letter "R" that has been decorated with an illustration of rose hips. You can download the 3" x 5" @ 300 ppi JPEG without a watermark here.


From my personal collection of ephemera. These images are to be incorporated into your creative endeavors and not for resale or re-distribution "as-is". Please credit FieldandGarden.com as your source when sharing or publishing.

Vintage Botanical Illustration & Nature Poem for Altered Art, Graphic Design, Papercrafts or Scrapbooking: Yellow Rose 2

Antique illustration from The Botanical Magazine of Fortune's Double Yellow rose showing prickles, thorns and bowing stems, as well as flowers being pale in colour, unrecognizable in shape, and hardly likely, in Graham Thomas's words, "to make people blink even today".

Accompanying the yellow rose illustration, you can find a nature poem, simply titled "To Rose" that was written by William T. Saward and published in 1897.

You can download the public domain poem as a high-res 6" x 6" @ 300 ppi JPEG without a watermark here. The vintage botanical illustration can be downloaded as a high-res 6" x 9" @ 300 ppi JPEG here. Good for altered art, graphic design, papercrafts or scrapbooking projects.


From my personal collection of ephemera. These images are to be incorporated into your creative endeavors and not for resale or re-distribution "as-is". Please credit FieldandGarden.com as your source when sharing or publishing.

Free Vintage Nature Poem: The Dial of a Summer's Day by C.E.C. Weigall

A Victorian poem entitled "The Dial of a Summer's Day" by C.E.C. Weigall, originally published c1890. Accompanying the poem is an illustration of a small farmhouse surrounded by a lush meadow at the height of summer. The poem goes as follows:

Just one o'clock:
In the meadow of hay,
The reapers are reaping and singing today,
Ant the swish of the scythe rings a glad roundelay.

Just two o'clock:
Hush! you babbling rill,
The world lies a-drowsing, the reapers are still,
And a shimmer of heat dances over the hill.

Just three o'clock:
Said the hare by the stile,
"The reapers are crafty -- the reapers of Lisle."
So he crept 'neath a dock-leaf and pondered awhile.

Just four o'clock:
In the wild rose and clover
The honey bee laughs, and dips over and over,
And "peewit, 'tis hot!" pipes the petulant plover.

Just five o'clock:
Twixt the moor and the sky,
Where the far distant purple of heather doth lie,
The arrowing curlews still hover and cry.

Just six o'clock:
From the ivied church tower,
The breeze carries upward in the chime of the hour,
Which the great bell is tolling with ponderous power.

Just seven o'clock:
Drones the humble bee red,
As he watches a cockchafer whizz over head,
And fussily follows a neighbour to bed.

Just eight o'clock:
As I watch and I wait
In the gathering twilight, beside the farm gate,
I know that the flowers say, "Mabel is late!"

Just nine o'clock:
As we wander and pass,
Hand in hand, lip to lip, over dew-spangled grass,
We can hear the white owl shrieking, "Lovers, alas!"

Just ten o'clock:
As we part 'neath a star,
The angels are smiling through heaven's bright bar,
And the new moon is rocking the clouds in her car.

Just eleven o'clock:
In her window the light
Flares redly and instant, then fades out of sight,
And I turn with a sigh, and walk into the night.

Just twelve o'clock:
On the motionless deep
The lights of the fishing-boats tremulous peep,
And the angels have hushed the world's sorrows to sleep.

You can download the poem along with the black and white illustration as a high-res 12" x 12" @ 300 ppi JPEG here. Lovely as a framed print but can also be used in a greeting card, junk journal or scrapbooking project.


Public domain poem is from my personal collection. All digitized poems by FieldandGarden.com are licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License. Please credit and link back to FieldandGarden.com as your source if you use or share this work.

Free Vintage Nature Poem: Who Taught the Birds? by Caris Brooke

British Birds: Cock Skylark; Hen Beam Bird; Hen White Wagtail; Hen Blackcap; Cock Nightingale; Hen Nightingale; Cock and hen house Martin; Cock Marsh Titmouse; Hen Titlark and a Hen Grass Hopper, painted 1736
by Charles Collins (1680 - 1744)

*** --- *** --- ***

WHO TAUGHT THE BIRDS?
by Caris Brooke
(originally published June 17, 1893)

To and fro, to and fro,
From the chestnut tree to the meadow grass,
Day after day I watched her pass;
Where did the little birdie go?
With drooping wing and ruffled breast,
Hopping along with a broken leg,
She came to my window, as if to beg
Crumbs for the little ones up in her nest.

Far and high, touching the sky
Where the chestnut flowers are pink and white,
Every morning and every night
She carried worms, or grubs, or fly,
To a nest that was woven of moss and feather,
Where the little bird-babies chirrup and cheep,
And over the nest-edge try to peep --
Five little yellow bills open together.

Slowly, in pain, in sunshine and rain,
The mother-bird went on her weary way;
But the little ones waited that summer day,
And chirruped and called for her -- all in vain.
I opened my window, and found her lain
Just where the sunlight touches the sill --
Not waiting for crumbs, but cold and still --
Never to fly to her nest again.

Little mouths to be fed, and their mother dead --
Must the poor wee birdies with hunger die?
Watching, I saw another bird fly
Straight to the nest with a crumb of bread.
To and fro, without staying to rest,
She carried them morsels of dainty food,
Till she satisfied all the hungry brood;
Then gathered them warmly under her breast.

* * * * *

Now tell me, Who had whispered to the little birdies's heart
To fly to those forsaken ones, and take their mother's part?

Public domain poem is from my personal collection. All digitized poems by FieldandGarden.com are licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License. Please credit and link back to FieldandGarden.com as your source if you use or share this work.

Free Vintage Nature Poem: My Love by M. Hedderwick Browne

A Victorian poem titled "My Love," written by M. (Marie) Hedderwick Browne, and published in 1893. Here, the author compares the hardy personality of love to various flowers and finds them wanting until she comes to the resilient and low-maintenance heather which she holds in high esteem. Here is how the poem goes:

I
My love is not like the rose,
Nor the languid lady-lily,
Nor the pansy, pensive-faced,
Nor the drooping "daffy-dilly."

II
She's not like the pale snowdrop,
Fears of frailty in us waking,
Nor the shrinking violet,
For the shade the sun forsaking.

III
I can only liken her
To the brave and bonnie heather --
Hardy, wholesome, and not made
For a hothouse or fine weather.

Public domain poem is from my personal collection. All digitized poems by FieldandGarden.com are licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License. Please credit and link back to FieldandGarden.com as your source if you use or share this work.