168 THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE ‘CHAP, 
tered flowers, or sheets of colour due to one or 
two species, but in gardens one glory follows 
another. Here are brought together all the 
quaint enamelled eyes, 
That on the green turf sucked the honeyed showers, 
And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. 
Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, 
The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine, 
The white pink and the pansy freaked with jet, 
The glowing violet, 
The musk rose, and the well attired woodbine, 
With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, 
And every flower that sad embroidery wears. 
We cannot, happily we need not try to, 
contrast or compare the beauty of gardens 
with that of woods and fields. 
And yet to the true lover of Nature wild 
flowers have a charm which no garden can 
equal. Cultivated plants are but a living 
herbarium. They surpass, no doubt, the 
dried specimens of a museum, but, lovely as 
they are, they can be no more compared with 
the natural vegetation of our woods and fields 
than the captives in the Zoological Gardens 
with the same wild species in their native 
forests and mountains. 
1 Milton. 
