ILLINOIS IIORTICULTUEAL SOCIETY. 295 



And iiiste:ul of dreary pastures swept by roaring winds of March, 



Kise llie Ion;; donsc ranlis of maples, groves of walnnt, birch and larch;— 



From the mountains of Virginia, from Minnesota's lakes and streams. 



From wliere St. Lawrence with his thunder shakes the boatman ia liis dreams. 



Anil, his forehead wreatlied with snow and scarred witli lightning, gray Kutahdin 



Sees the climbing sun a hundred silver-sanded lakelets gladden, 



From the wild Canadian forests, from Wisconsin's glassy rivers, 



Or where the restless aspen's top beside the Susquehanna quivers. 



Prom the vales of Colorado and the wilds of Michigan, 



From the fountains of the Ganges and the valleys of Japan, 



From the heights of Scandinavia and tlie lone wastes of Mongolia, 



From Campania's purple past\ires and the slopes of Anatolia; 



Fi'om all tluse my hands should gather treasures living, rare, unknown. 



Tree and shrub and root and scion, polished nut and hooked cone. 



Thus I long for what 1 have not, thus I chase my fair ideal, 



Emerald glories, trailing splendors, would to God that they were real '. 



Yet behold my fancied treasures, walk within my airy Eden, 



Soil as deep and rich as ever daintiest plant might ask to feed in; 



Lime and phosphorus and potash, soda, carbon and ammonia, 



Food for fir and rose and lilac, grape or crocus or bignonia; 



Loads of brown leaves from the forest, tempered by the Irost and rain. 



Mouldering refuse from the stable, dripjjings from the kitchen drain, 



Tliese through root and Ijark and chalice shall ascend, till on my roses, 



Phloxes, dahlias and carnations all the rainbow's glow reijoses. 



See my cherry trees and apples, plums and mulberries and peaches, 

 Apricots and ruddy crab trees stretching by la gracefid reaches; 

 Not a caterpillar, borer, not an aphis to be found. 

 Not a dead branch nor a sucker, not a weed on all the ground ; 

 Every trunk is snmothly polished, every branch is In Its place, 

 Bu<I and leaf and growth and color all <leclare a vigorous race ; 

 May suns on their heads pour down a tide of white and purple bloom. 

 May winds tripping o'er their branches fan you, heavy with perfume; 

 See my wine-saps, bellefleurs, pippins, tempting both to eye and lii). 

 In their juices, if lie had them, Jupiter his nose would dip; 

 Mark my cherries, duke, morrello, keiitish, juicy bigarreau. 

 Early richmond, black tartarian, down their luscious tribute throw; 

 AH my pear trees droj) with nectar, bartlett, buft'um, bloodgood, dix, 

 I have toiled in mellow borders each with loving care to lix; 

 Some with forms of Nature's giving, bend witli honied fruitage full. 

 And, with branches pointing earthward, some are drooping in (juenoullle; 

 All my peaches are ambrosia, lit for poets, kings or gods. 

 Toned with pink and yellow burdens every amber branchlet nods: 

 Here my early york invites you, George the fourth awaits you there. 

 And my >[orris reds are Hushing in the golden August air; 

 Some, imprisoned on a trellis, shimmer, spreading like a fan. 

 And with golden globes are bending, sweet as those of Ispahan- 

 Room for shrub and bull) and climber, lioneysuckles and altheas. 

 Jonquils, amber-throated lilies, and the glory of spireas! 

 Walk among my royal willows, hoary oaks and mountain ashes. 

 Through whose stems each ru<Idy cluster like a grosbeak's pinion flashes; 

 Lordly elms and feathery larches, where the fire-winged tanagers 

 Through the green and braided arches flicker like the beard of Mars; 

 Mazes resonant with robins, and the luellew sound that rolls 

 In a silver plashing brooklet from the throats ol orioles; 

 Nestled in tlie laps of roses, from your sight half hid away. 

 Here my sweet-breathed calycanthus freights the throbbing air of May. 



Here is food for Juno surely— Ilovey's seedling, Wilson, pine, 

 McAvoy and Brooklyn scarlet— food for gods should be divine; 

 All the rows seem perfumed torches, kindled for some royal pyre. 

 And the very ground is quivering with a blaze of odorous lire; 



