I have worked the soil of many lands
And kissed the earth of India,
Under her fiery sun my hands
Grew strong and as a gardener
I learned the language of the flowers,
Spoke to them with love and praise
Felt the grace come down like showers
As benediction on my days.
In Georgia as the Spring returns
I plant again most joyously
While in my soul the fire burns
To cleanse the heart and truly see.