I just finished reading a mystery called "The Trail of the Wild Rose" by Anthony Eglin. The main character visits the Museum of Garden History in Lambeth, England where he sees this poem written on a Victorian sampler. There is no credit given to the author of the poem.
There is peace within a garden
A peace so deep and calm
That when the heart is troubled
It's like a soothing balm.
There's life within the garden
A life that still goes on
Filling the empty places
When older plants are gone
There's glory in the garden
At every time of year
Spring summer autumn winter
To fill the heart with cheer
So ever tend your garden
Its beauty to increase
For in it you'll find solace
And in it you'll find peace
