58 THE CHRONICLES OF A GARDEN-. 



them is irresistible. We have high poetical sanction for 

 this robbing of the woods to deck the garden, for Words- 

 worth addresses his Grasmere orchard thus : — 



" Dear spot, which we have watch'd with tender heed, 

 Bringing the chosen plants and blossoms blown 

 Among the distant mountains, flower and weed, 

 Which thou hast taken to thee as thy own, 

 Making all kindness register'd and known. 

 Thou, for our sakes, though nature's child indeed, 

 Fair in thj^self and beautiful alone, 

 Hast taken gifts which thou dost little need." 



Besides this innate desire to transplant wild -flowers, 

 there is frequently a wish to bring away from some loved 

 spot where happy days have been our portion, some me- 

 morials of our walks and enjoyments, and flowers seem 

 peculiarly fitted for the purpose. We have thus long 

 cherished bell-heather from Loch Achray, sea-pinks from 

 the shores of Loch Long, primroses and anemones from 

 many a shady nook, and last, but not least, daffodils from 

 Rydal Mount. 



Another pleasure in connexion with this love of wild 

 flow^ers is derived from forming our native plants into a 

 botanical bed, setting aside a portion of a border where no- 

 thing but British species are to grow. Some, however, of 

 our friends need caution ere thus introduced, for they are 

 apt to get beyond bounds, and can scarcely be got quit of. 

 Thus I have myself to thank for bringing comfrey into the 

 garden, where it is now a coarse and troublesome weed ; it 

 has no beauty, and was only planted in a botanical bed 



