CHRYSANTHEMUMS 



ii 



YESTERDAY, then, I went to admire the 

 year's gentle and gorgeous floral feast, 

 the last which the snows of December 

 and January, like a broad belt of peace, 

 sleep, silence and night, separate from 

 the delicious festivals that commence 

 again with the germination ( powerful 

 already, though hardly visible) that 

 seeks the light in February. 



They are there, under the immense 

 transparent dome, the noble flowers of 

 the month of fogs ; they are there, at 

 the royal meeting-place, all the grave 

 little autumn fairies, whose dances and 

 attitudes seem to have been struck mo- 

 tionless with a single word. The eye 

 C88 3 



