80 State Horticultural Society. 



roses, is a matter of history, but the meanest tramp who meanders aim- 

 lessly across our continent has opportunities to enjoy a richer vision of 

 floral loveliness each recurring springtime, free of cost, if he but have the 

 ethical sense to appreciate it. When all the orchards are in bloom, when 

 apple, peach, pear and plum trees are covered with unnumbered mil- 

 lions of fragrant blossoms, what sight could be prettier? Where could 

 be found more delicious perfume ? 



The beauty-loving soul could here enjoy an etherial feast besides 



which the Vanderbilt dinner was nothing. 



However, the farmer seldom sees in his blossom-laden trees their real 

 glory, but contents himself with picturing a magnificent yield of fruit, 

 and leaves to the chance aesthetic visitor the joy of the harvests portent. 



Nature is too varied to be monotonous, too full of changes to be dull 

 to him who studies her manifold wonders. There is plenty of room in 

 this grand old world for the ethical, the practical, and the aesthetic. 

 Outwardly they may seem to clash, in reality they are perfect chords in 

 creation's harmonious symphonies. I love flowers and have loved them 

 during all my conscious life, I have cultivated them in health and i 

 sickness. I have clung to and cared for them when the doctor bade me 

 throw them all away and there is ever within my soul the plea : 



"Give me flowers — fragrant flowers. 

 Not alone for leisure hours : 

 Not alone to wear — and toss 

 Far away unheeding loss : 

 But to love, to kiss, caress, 

 Giving care and tenderness ; 

 In my sad and lonely hours 

 Give me flowers — fragrant flowers." 



"Give me flowers while life is here. 

 Do not wait until the bier 

 Grimly holds my coffined form. 

 Let me know that hearts are warm. 

 With love enough to fill the hours 

 While here I stay^ — Oh give me flowers. , 



