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My Garden George Cooper









My Garden

George Cooper

When fields are green, and skies are fair,

And summer fragrance fills the air,

I love to watch the budding rose

That in my pleasant garden grows;

But when old Winter, fierce and free,

Has hushed the murmur of the bee,

And all the fields and hills are hid

Beneath his snowy coverlid,

Oh! then my only garden-spot

Is just this little flower-pot.