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Seeds and Men 



by Edgar A. Guest 



Written to commemorate the 100th year of Ferry-Morse Seed Co. 



A garden is the work of man, 



'Tis fashioned by his patient care, 

 This has been so since life began. 



He smooths the soil and keeps it fair. 

 Nature with sun and rain will aid. 



But more than that a garden needs, 

 Nature will never use a spade 



Or hoe or rake to check the weeds. 



Nature disorderly remains, 



She strews her glories on the breeze. 

 Planning and plotting she disdains. 



She plants but never seeks to please. 

 This has been so since first began 



The struggle of the human race, 

 The world has had to trust to man 



To make of it a better place. 



Of all the merchandise that's made 



There's nothing lovelier to behold 

 Than this: a tier of seeds displayed. 



Zinnia and phlox and marigold. 

 Who stands before it surely knows 



The miracle of life is there. 

 For in the tiniest seed that grows 



Are root and stem and petals fair. 



There in a pictured packet lies 



All things on which a flower depends. 

 No matter what his choice, he buys 



A mystery that never ends. 

 Beauty and bounty he can gain. 



Delight of triumph and its pride, 

 Rewards, which neither sun nor rain 



Without man's labor can provide. 



What of the seedsmen? Year by year. 



For all who plant a plot, a field. 

 Their dreams, their hopes achieved appear 



In flower and fruit and harvest yield. 

 With life and growth they daily live. 



They go wherever nature leads. 

 With everything they sell, they give 



The wondrous miracle of seeds. 









Copyright 1955. Ferry-Morse Seed Co 



