honey-coloured horns uplifted, bearing their viewless burden of Summer. 



rich scent, made each one, to the wandering bee, a very horn of Garden 



plenty. In the secret soul of me as I went past that dyke came Pictures 



a great desire to break off and plunder. But the thought 



arose of how many daily passed, school children, men and 



women to and from the town, cattle driven past to pasture, and 



yet none meddled, for not one broken stalk was seen, nor wasted 



bloom. . . . With a silent act of thankfulness for having beheld 



such loveliness and breathed such sweetness, I guiltless went my 



way. 



On the south and eastern aspect the walls were, as is some- 

 times said, " a picture." There, grew alternate Nectarine and 

 Peach trees. Between their narrow leaves lay hid at that season 

 hard green spheres of polished fruit. Later, the ripening peaches, 

 rounded full with the promise of Summer, will harmonise with 

 the old brick walls, in soft cadences of rose and amber. Here 

 and there a Blue Gloria enlaced the formal, pleached branches, 

 with great, wide flowers, with their evanescent glow of stainless 

 blue. The Gloria refuses to unroll the silken splendours of her 

 azure robe unless the sun in heaven shines fair. In our short- 

 lived Summer days " too often is his gold complexion dimmed," 

 and thus too often will this fairest flower of the Beautiful Garden 

 begin to wrinkle and take leave of life, before the bell in the 

 turret clock tells noon. Yet in their own land they do not 

 last even so long. 



To the hidden self in the Lady of Flowers when Gloria 

 was dead, came a voice from the gardens of the east. A far- 

 off voice that said " I saw you in your garden with a back- 

 ground of your Elms in their May glory, not quite green and 

 not quite brown, but just as if some fairy had touched the brown 



