There is just no end to the Spring bounty in the garden:
Tonight from deeps of loneliness I wake in wistful wonder
To a sudden sense of brightness, an immanence of blue -
O are there bluebells swaying in the shadowy coppice yonder,
Shriven with the dawning and the dew?
Lucia C. Markham (late 19th-early 20th century)
On a Bed of Forget-me-nots
I love its growth at large and free
By untrod path and unlopped tree,
Or nodding by the unpruned hedge,
Or on the water's dangerous edge
Where flags and meadowsweet blow rank
With rushes on the quaking bank.
Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)