16 A GARDEN OF PLEASURE 



of the house is dead. Early summer 

 used to clothe it in white waxen clusters, 

 for our delight. Both the old and the 

 new aubretias are here ; the new grows 

 the strongest, but the colour of it is too 

 much mixt with red to please so greatly 

 as the old. When the common aubretia 

 begins to show in lilac upon its compact 

 mass of grey-green cushion, the image 

 of a never-forgotten April evening at 

 Farringford fails not to return to me, 

 with all the freshness of a dearly cherished 

 memory. 



The straight garden path sloped gently 

 upwards to an open summer-house, where 

 sat the Poet Laureate, discoursing with his 

 friends. 



It was the season when aubretia shone 

 in all the bloom of her lilac loveliness, up 

 and down the borders. Later on, white 

 lilies would rise in tall groups at the back. 

 In the trees all around, thrushes and 

 blackbirds were celebrating the early spring 

 at the top of their voices. The hour was 

 late, and efforts were ineffectually made 

 to persuade him to return to the house. 



