Two Gardens in Linndale
Two brothers, Oakes and Oliver,
Two gentle men as ever were,
Would roam no longer, but abide
In Linndale, where their fathers died,
And each would be a gardener.
“Now first we fence the garden through,
With this for me and that for you,”
Said Oliver.—“Divine!” said Oakes,
“And I, while I raise artichokes,
Will do what I was born to do.”
“But this is not the soil, you know,”
Said Oliver, “to make them grow:
The parent of us, who is dead,
Compassionately shook his head
Once on a time and told me so.”
“I hear you, gentle Oliver,”
Said Oakes, “and in your character
I find as fair a thing indeed
As ever bloomed and ran to seed
Since Adam was a gardener.
“Still, whatsoever I find there,
Forgive me if I do not share
The knowing gloom that you take on
Of one who doubted and is done:
For chemistry meets every prayer.”
“Sometimes a rock will meet a plough,”
Said Oliver; “but anyhow
’Tis here we are, ’tis here we live,
With each to take and each to give:
There’s no room for a quarrel now.
“I leave you in all gentleness
To science and a ripe success.
Now God be with you, brother Oakes,
With you and with your artichokes:
You have the vision, more or less.”
“By fate, that gives to me no choice,
I have the vision and the voice:
Dear Oliver, believe in me,
And we shall see what we shall see;
Henceforward let us both rejoice.”
“But first, while we have joy to spare
We’ll plant a little here and there;
And if you be not in the wrong,
We’ll sing together such a song
As no man yet sings anywhere.”
They planted and with fruitful eyes
Attended each his enterprise.
“Now days will come and days will go,
And many a way be found, we know,”
Said Oakes, “and we shall sing, likewise.”
“The days will go, the years will go,
And many a song be sung, we know,”
Said Oliver; “and if there be
Good harvesting for you and me,
Who cares if we sing loud or low?”
They planted once, and twice, and thrice,
Like amateurs in paradise;
And every spring, fond, foiled, elate,
Said Oakes, “We are in tune with Fate:
One season longer will suffice.”
Year after year ’twas all the same:
With none to envy, none to blame,
They lived along in innocence,
Nor ever once forgot the fence,
Till on a day the Stranger came.
He came to greet them where they were,
And he too was a Gardener:
He stood between these gentle men,
He stayed a little while, and then
The land was all for Oliver.
’Tis Oliver who tills alone
Two gardens that are now his own;
’Tis Oliver who sows and reaps
And listens, while the other sleeps,
For songs undreamed of and unknown.
’Tis he, the gentle anchorite,
Who listens for them day and night;
But most he hears them in the dawn,
When from his trees across the lawn
Birds ring the chorus of the light.
He cannot sing without the voice,
But he may worship and rejoice
For patience in him to remain,
The chosen heir of age and pain,
Instead of Oakes—who had no choice.
’Tis Oliver who sits beside
The other’s grave at eventide,
And smokes, and wonders what new race
Will have two gardens, by God’s grace,
In Linndale, where their fathers died.
And often, while he sits and smokes,
He sees the ghost of gentle Oakes
Uprooting, with a restless hand,
Soft, shadowy flowers in a land
Of asphodels and artichokes.
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Oliver's Army
I could talk all night
my mind was sleep walking
While I'm putting the world to rights
Call careers information
Have you got yourself an occupation ?
Oliver's Army is here to stay
Oliver's Army is on their way
And I would rather be anywhere else
But here today
There was a Checkpoint Charlie
He didn't crack a smile
But it's no laughing party
When you've been on the murder mile
If you're out of luck or out of work
We could send you to Johannesburg
Oliver's Army is here to stay
Oliver's Army are on their way
And I would rather be anywhere else
than here today
Hong Kong is up for grabs
London is full of Arabs
We could be in Palestine
Overrun by a Chinese line
With the boys from the Mersey and the Thames and the Tyne
But there's no danger
It's a professional career
and it could be arranged
With just a word in Mr. Churchill's ear
If you're out of luck or out of work
We could send you to Johannesburg
Oliver's Army is here to stay
Oliver's Army are on their way
And I would rather be anywhere else
but here today
And I would rather be anywhere else
but here today
song performed by by Ok Go
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Goodnight Mr. Oliver
The sun settles into the hills
behind the hospital compound
And the long shadows fade
into the dimness of the evening
The old man moves slightly
shifting in the chair
lifting one hand
placing it over the other
The hands now like dry leaves
rustled by a waft of the air
more sensitive to the cold now
So funny he thinks
alone again
I always knew
it would be this way
So many times
and in so many ways
Always captive to my heart
a tear on my cheek old fool
Oh fool yes and over and over
but so suddenly old
Ah it just crept up on me
Youth cannot imagine age
We never really know
Oh I was never young
It was just a funny dream
How very, very strange
to be ninety-four
My skin’s becoming transparent
Maybe that's the way I’ll go
One day the light will just
shine though me
And I’ll be gone
and the staff will come looking
Oh Mr. Oliver!
Have you seen Mr. Oliver?
He was sitting there
as usual in the garden
Look here's his blanket
and his cup of water
Oh look, can you see the funny light?
The evenings get this way
Sometimes in autumn
Perhaps he wandered off
Oh Mr. Oliver!
It's time to come in
for the
poem by Tom Courtney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Special Birthday Card to You
No words could be found that could
tell you how delighted I am spending
this special day telling you how lucky
and privileged I am to be sharing this
day with you, my husband!
I could find no words in the store that said, “you’re
My friend in good times, my rock in
times of sorrow-my reason for all the
wonderful yesterdays, and my promise for tomorrows!
Too, I found no words that said to you: “honey
I feel the same love for you today, your birthday,
that I felt for you the many days before-even
before becoming your wife, and promise to make
this year, and every year the best in your life!
I couldn’t even find final words to tell you: that this year’s
betters and worst, pains and sorrows, we stayed by each
other’s side sharing the laughter and tears through
those uncertain hours and days. Still not knowing
what the future has in store for you and me,
but this I know, without a doubt, the best is yet to come.
Happy birthday, my dear sorry I didn’t have a birthday card
Lying on your pillow when you awaken-but sometimes, we must “have our say”
Here, wishing you a Happy Birthday! We’ll celebrate this weekend!
Perhaps, it wasn’t such a great idea getting married on your birthday. LOL
By
Almedia Knight-Oliver
November 7,2011
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Song...
This sweet melody on air
It still reminds me of your hair
So soft and gentle to the touch
Just like this song we love so much
This sad old tune the radio plays
It holds all our memories stay
It brings me back to happier days
When we had our love have its way
For as every note that it sings
Hits a special chord in my strings
I remember the joy that it brings
This love song that we used to sing
This sweet old song that plays on air
This sad love song the radio plays
Reminds me of how we used to be
Fills me with memories of you and me…
matthewedanolivernpalma->>>>>
poem by Matthew Edan Oliver Palma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Joy, Joy, Joy
Joy, Joy, Joy
J oy-filled cornucopia that
O verflows with goodies that
Y ields from joy (the source) :
pleasure
happiness
enjoyment-so
allow no externals
To lay claim to inner joy!
Almedia Knight and
Claude H.Oliver II
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Modesty: the gentle art of enhancing your charm by pretending not to be aware of it.
quote by Oliver Herford
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Hope: from despair
All tell me not to despair, yet
I’m worn and flat as a tire.
Yet my mind recollects the
times we spent in the park.
Strolling and talking, discussing
old and current events, as well
as the number one book
on the bestseller's list.
And a narrative of happy times to
leave behind to be read in spare times.
About love poems that color our hearts red,
about a ton of kisses you planted on my forehead
about your strong right arm being comforting cane.
Drawing back the curtain of moments of birth:
Look! the stained blue dress tucked away in memory’s trunk;
Look! those gentle tummy pinches or waves and tucks;
Look! your knowing smile and catchy eyes were your line and hook.
Listen! I hear your baritone voice calming my trembling heart!
Hope, I know you can’t forever hide behind fear,
in as much, as the sun behind the clouds.
But absent despair, I stand alone.
Dear family and friends let me cringe, cry,
and dance with despair tonight and
partner with hope tomorrow.
By
Almedia Knight-Oliver
September 24th, the eve of the birth of my 2nd son and one week into a positive change in my husband’s illness…two beginnings with past and present births.
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I had rather have a plain, russet-coated Captain, that knows what he fights for, and loves what he knows, than that which you call a Gentle-man and is nothing else.
quote by Oliver Cromwell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let's Just Breathe...
I know that every life cease living.
Surely as we sit remembering our other before,
you and me must know that
one day we must breathe alone
so, stay with me
and let's just breathe…
by
Almedia Knight -Oliver
November 25,2012
In memory of the birthday of Milton L. Knight, my first husband, coupled with the day we were married way back then…
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hymn.—The Word Of Promise
(by supposition)
An Hymn set forth to be sung by the Great Assembly
at Newtown, [Mass.] Mo. 12. 1. 1636.
[Written by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES, eldest son of Rev.
ABIEL HOLMES, eighth Pastor of the First Church in
Cambridge, Massachusetts.]
LORD, Thou hast led us as of old
Thine Arm led forth the chosen Race
Through Foes that raged, through Floods that roll'd,
To Canaan's far-off Dwelling-Place.
Here is Thy bounteous Table spread,
Thy Manna falls on every Field,
Thy Grace our hungering Souls hath fed,
Thy Might hath been our Spear and Shield.
Lift high Thy Buckler, Lord of Hosts!
Guard Thou Thy Servants, Sons and Sires,
While on the Godless heathen Coasts
They light Thine Israel's Altar-fires!
The salvage Wilderness remote
Shall hear Thy Works and Wonders sung;
So from the Rock that Moses smote
The Fountain of the Desart sprung.
Soon shall the slumbering Morn awake,
From wandering Stars of Errour freed,
When Christ the Bread of Heaven shall break
For Saints that own a common Creed.
The Walls that fence His Flocks apart
Shall crack and crumble in Decay,
And every Tongue and every Heart
Shall welcome in the new-born Day.
Then shall His glorious Church rejoice
His Word of Promise to recall,--
ONE SHELTERING FOLD, ONE SHEPHERD'S VOICE,
ONE GOD AND FATHER OVER ALL!
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mother...look At Your Nature:
Wrapped in green grass
And other green things,
Beautifully laced in pink
And white blooms,
A canopy of blossoms
For thousand of strollers,
Flowered heads fresh out
Of priestly cradle,
Perennial rite in spring,
Eastertime turns Mother Earth
Into glorious paradise,
Pink and white snowflake
On jackets and hats,
But all delay leaving
to stroll hand-in-hand,
Promenading
On
Floral carpeting,
Besieged
by
Brooklyn Botanic Garden’s
ritual of spring.
Almedia Knight-Oliver
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Please Don't Stop Loving Me When I'm Old
Our love rose with the fall of golden leaves
rough winter roots for gentle plants in spring.
It seems we were planted in earth, grew together,
and blossomed together.
When I pass, place a rose petal on my grave.
Sweet love is born out of souls; outside winds whistles;
stars and moon twinkles…All God’s handmaids.
In obedient to my heart, I entrust me to you.
Now, let’s continue on down lover’s lane,
Walking alongside grass holding
Baby shrubs on her lap.
Straining our ears we hear bird
Singing songs of praise
Reminding us of the good old days.
When clouds no longer hold the rain;
will you shower me with your love?
When my head is covered with snow;
will you forever be my beau?
When my eyes cease to be my panes
Will your arms my cane,
Please don’t stop loving me because I’m old.
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hot Dogs On The Fourth Of July
The BIG BANGS on the fourth of July!
Picnics, fireworks, barbecues, hot dog for everyone!
Cool-dog lay in fresh whole-wheat bun covered with mustard,
ketchup, and onions-thinks it taste better than all others.
Humble- Ilana, one by one, pluck them off 'delicious'
Hot-diddly-dog barked, 'Leave the rest out just cover me
with mayonnaise and sauerkraut! '
Juicy-dog, filled with by products lay in bun with everything on it,
looking like the pigeon dropping that fell on the topping.
Innocence-Kayla said, 'I pass…a hamburger, please! '
Naked-slim-dog stretches out in just a plain toasted bun,
Demure-Kamille sits alone enjoying her bare hot dog
Happy Fourth of July!
By
Almedia Knight- Oliver
July 3,2012
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Waiting...
Waiting…
In my own tranquility, I attend my breath and wait.
I need neither Zoloft, nor steroid, nor meth.
I rage on no more against time and fate, for
what's mine is expecting me.
I stay in haste and delay glee-for
what benefit is such haste?
I stand amid pain and sorrow, yet
Knowing that what's mine awaits me.
Many stormy days and dark nights, I stay hoping
to find my way home, yet not knowing that
which I seek seeks me, and yet
not changing my destiny.
Does it matter to be alone or shall I break?
I rest in joy for that mate in wait.
Where seeds are sown, thereby
to garner up its fruit of love.
Compassion is the redeemer of malice;
welcome to the world of duality!
So pervade love throughout the universe,
thereby dissipating evil.
The stars and moon afar off, yet light the night bright.
Rising full moon crosses the sky in splendor and
tides wave over wave. In truth and delight
nothing can keep what's mine from me.
By
Almedia Knight-Oliver
August 4,2012
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Universe...
I want:
To stroll in the valley for all it's worth
So to ascend the pinnacle of our love.
I enjoy:
Watching you mow the fuzz and spread white foam
and the scented aftershave on your face.
We delight
As we easy walk in the light of lightening bugs
Afore being disturbed by mating calls of katydids.
Then again lulled by the music of chickadees.
My Dearest!
You're the lyrics of my song that
resonates under the silver moon.
We'll cherish the rolling tides of love
And you the brightest star in heavens
and my rising sun 'til I go down…
By
Almedia Knight-Oliver
September 7,2012
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Seeing Mrs. ** Perform In The Character Of
FOR you, bright fair, the nine address their lays,
And tune my feeble voice to sing thy praise.
The heartfelt power of every charm divine,
Who can withstand their all-commanding shine?
See how she moves along with every grace,
While soul-brought tears steal down each shining face.
She speaks! 'tis rapture all, and nameless bliss,
Ye gods! what transport e'er compared to this.
As when in Paphian groves the Queen of Love
With fond complaint addressed the listening Jove,
'Twas joy, and endless blisses all around,
And rocks forgot their hardness at the sound.
Then first, at last even Jove was taken in,
And felt her charms, without disguise, within.
poem by Oliver Goldsmith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What is all our histories, but God showing himself, shaking and trampling on everything that he has not planted.
quote by Oliver Cromwell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bars Fight
August, twas the twenty-fifth,
Seventeen houndred forty-six,
The Indians did in ambush lay,
Some very valiant men to slay
Twas nigh unto Sam Dickinson's mill,
The Indians there five men did kill.
The names of whom I'll not leave out,
Samuel Allen like a hero foute,
And though he was so brave and bold,
His face no more shall we behold.
Eleazer Hawks was killed outright,
Before he had time to fight,
Before he did the Indians see,
Was shot and killed immediately.
Oliver Amsden he was slain,
Which caused his friends much grief pain.
Simeon Amsden they found dead
Not many rods from Oliver's head.
Adonijah Gillett, we do hear,
Did lose his life which was so dear.
John Sadler fled across the water,
And thus escaped the dreadful slaughter.
Eunice Allen see the Indians comeing
And hoped to save herself by running:
And had not her petticoats stopt her,
The awful creatures had not cotched her,
Not tommyhawked her on the head,
And left her on the ground for dead.
Young Samuel Allen, Oh! lack-a-day!
Was taken and carried to Canada.
poem by Lucy Terry Prince
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An Elegy On The Death Of A Mad Dog
Good people all, of every sort,
Give ear unto my song;
And if you find it wondrous short,
It cannot hold you long.
In Islington there was a man
Of whom the world might say,
That still a godly race he ran—
Whene'er he went to pray.
A kind and gentle heart he had,
To comfort friends and foes;
The naked every day he clad—
When he put on his clothes.
And in that town a dog was found,
As many dogs there be,
Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound,
And curs of low degree.
This dog and man at first were friends;
But when a pique began,
The dog, to gain some private ends,
Went mad, and bit the man.
Around from all the neighbouring streets
The wond'ring neighbours ran,
And swore the dog had lost its wits
To bite so good a man.
The wound it seemed both sore and sad
To every Christian eye;
And while they swore the dog was mad,
They swore the man would die.
But soon a wonder came to light
That showed the rogues they lied,—
The man recovered of the bite,
The dog it was that died!
poem by Oliver Goldsmith
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Fathers in today's modern families can be so many things.
quote by Oliver Hudson
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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