Maybe he murdered Myrtle; that would’ve done everyone a favor. . . .
Feel you the barren flattery of a rhyme? Can poets soothe you, when you pine for bread, By winding myrtle round your ruin'd shed?
E'en the rough rocks with tender myrtle bloom, and trodden weeds send out a rich perfume.
Cover me with soft earth, and let each handful be mixed With seeds ofjasmine, lilies, and myrtle; and when they Grow above me and thrive on my body's element they will Breathe the fragrance of my heart into space.
Changing Myrtle Beach? It makes me feel very good ... If it's changing, it's changing for the positive.
Wax myrtle: The birds love this stuff.