C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917.


God the first garden made, and the first city, Cain.


  • And add to these retired Leisure,
  • That in trim gardens takes his pleasure.
  • Milton.

  • The garden lies,
  • A league of grass, wash’d by a slow broad stream.
  • Tennyson.

  • My garden is a forest ledge
  • Which older forests bound;
  • The banks slope down to the blue lake-edge,
  • Then plunge to depths profound!
  • Emerson.

  • A little garden square and wall’d;
  • And in it throve an ancient evergreen,
  • A yew-tree, and all round it ran a walk
  • Of shingle, and a walk divided it.
  • Tennyson.

  • His gardens next your admiration call,
  • On every side you look, behold the wall!
  • No pleasing intricacies intervene,
  • No artful wildness to perplex the scene;
  • Grove nods at grove, each alley has a brother,
  • And half the platform just reflects the other.
  • The suffering eye inverted nature sees,
  • Trees cut to statues, statues thick as trees;
  • With here a fountain, never to be play’d,
  • And there a summer-house that knows no shade.
  • Pope.

    A garden, sir, wherein all rainbowed flowers were heaped together.

    Charles Kingsley.

  • The splash and stir
  • Of fountains spouted up and showering down
  • In meshes of the jasmine and the rose:
  • And all about us peal’d the nightingale,
  • Rapt in her song, and careless of the snare.
  • Tennyson.

  • An album is a garden, not for show
  • Planted, but use; where wholesome herbs should grow.
  • Charles Lamb.

    Who loves a garden loves a greenhouse, too.