We have some lovely white Primroses in the front garden. They have arrived all of their own accord.
In all our garden work, a Narcissus became broken so I brought it in where we can appreciate its beauty close up.
John Keats dated his poem, Endymion, April10th 1818, 200 years ago today. Here is a short extract which sums up my blog’s purpose.
From Endymion, Book 1
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its lovliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o’er-darkn’d ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits.