1 62 XanOscape Hrcbitecturc 



The woodland willow stands a lonely bush 



Of nebulous gold, 

 There the Spring Goddess comes in faint attire 



Of frightened fire. 



The golden willows lift 



Their boughs the sun to sift, 

 Their sprays they droop to screen 



The sky with veil of green, 

 A floating cage of song 



Where feathered lovers throng. * 



The beauty and the dainty charm of plants, trees, 

 and shrubs and flowers on the waterside transcends 

 description. What a fascination there is in the water- 

 lilies, Nuphar, Nelumbium, and Nymph^a — and it is 

 not easy to locate them rightly. It needs study and 

 it should not be undertaken lightly, although easy 

 enough if you know how to do it. Without much 

 study and observation success in managing these little 

 water plants is not easy to attain. The following lines 

 of Robert Bridges show a fine knowledge of the com- 

 mon water-lily of lakes and streams, a knowledge of a 

 kind that is often lacking in poets : 



But in the purple pool there nothing grows, 

 Not the white water-lily spoked with gold, 



Though best she loves the hollows, and well knows 

 On quiet streams her broad shields to unfold, 



Yet should her roots but try within these deeps to lie, 

 Not her long-reaching stalk could ever hold her waxen j 

 head so high. * 



' Robert Bridges, Poems, p. 307, 1912. 



