IN PRAISE OF GARDENS 



A Garden of Flowers 



Fairhanded Spring unbosoms every grace, 



Throws out the Snowdrop and the Crocus first, 



The Daisy, Primrose, Violet darkly blue, 



And Polyanthus of unnumbered dyes; 



The yellow Wallflower, stained with iron brown, 



And lavish Stock that scents the garden round, 



From the soft wing of vernal breezes shed 



Anemones, Auriculas, enriched 



With shining meal o'er all their velvet leaves, 



And full Ranunculus of glowing red. 



Then comes the Tulip race, whose beauty plays 



Her idle freaks, from family diffused 



To family, as flies the father dust, 



The varied colours run ; and while they break 



On the charmed eye, the exulting florist marks, 



With secret pride, the wonders of his hand. 



No gradual bloom is wanting, from the bud, 



First born of Spring, to Summer's musky tribes 



Nor Hyacinths of purest virgin white, 



Low bent and blushing inwards nor Jonquils 



Of potent fragrance nor Narcissus fair, 



As o'er the fabled mountain hanging still 



[112] 



