Somewhere in Thyme – 2

Beautiful words from days gone by…

The opening summer, the sky,
The shining moorland, to hear,
The drowsy bee, as of old,
Hum o’er the thyme.
— Matthew Arnold, Haworth Churchyard, 1855

I cannot tarry;
I knew a wench married in the afternoon as she went to the garden,
for parsley to stuff a rabbit; and so may you sir, and so adieu, sir.
— William Shakespeare – The Taming of the Shrew  1595

What is there in the Universal Earth more lovely than a wreath,
from the bay tree?
— John Keats, To the Ladies who saw me crowned. 1817

Plant me a garden to heal the body
Betony, yarrow, and daisies to mend
Sage for the blood and comfrey for the bones
Foxglove and hyssop the sick to tend.
— Elizabethan Herb Song

For few can resist the charm
Of a sprig of balm
Or the hope of becoming a paragon
By the tactful use of tarragon.
— Margaret Brownlow, 20th century writer and horticulturist

There’s rue for you, and here’s some for me
We may call it the herb of grace o’ Sunday.
— William Shakespeare – Hamlet 1602

With marjoram knots, sweet brier and ribbon-grass
And lavender, the choice of every lass
And sprigs of lad’s love, all familiar names
Which every garden through the village claims.
— John Claire, The Shepherd’s Calendar 1827

The Marigold that goes to bed with the sun
and with him rises weeping.
— William Shakespeare , A Winter’s Tale 1610

Bind your brows with the flowers of sweet smelling marjoram.
— Catullus, 1st century B C poet

There in the front grows sage, sweetly scented
It deserves to grow green forever
Enjoying perpetual youth
For it is rich in virtue
— Wilafred Strabo, 9th Century Monk and Poet

Fine basil desireth it may be her lot
To grow as the gilliflower, trim in a pot
That ladies and gents to whom ye do serve
May help her needeth, poor life to preserve
— Thomas Tusser, 16th Century poet

The smell of lavender hidden in the green
Pour’d back into my empty soul and frame
The times when I remembered to have been
Joyful and free from blame
— Alfred Lord Tennyson, The Ballad of Dunoon, 19th Century

May these words inspire you dear reader, to have your own herb garden…
Somewhere
in
Thyme.

— Meadow Walker and Jackie