Gardens are not made by singing 'Oh, how beautiful,' and sitting in the shade.
The glory of the garden lies in more than meets the eye.
And when your back stops aching and your hands begin to harden, You will find yourself a partner in the Glory of the Garden.
Oh, Adam was a gardener, and God who made him sees That half a proper gardener's work is done upon his knees, So when your work is finished, you can wash your hands and pray For the Glory of the Garden, that it may not pass away!
Our England is a garden, and such gardens are not made By singing 'Oh how wonderful' and sitting in the shade, While better men than we go out, and start their working lives By grubbing weeds from garden paths with broken dinner knives.
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