204 THE SHAKESPEARE GARDEN 



and delicate of all the blossoms of the field. The 

 rest, nearly all of them, depend on the texture of 

 their surface for color. But the Poppy is painted 

 glass; it never glows so brightly as when the sun 

 shines through it. Whenever it is seen against the 

 light, or with the light, always it is a flame and 

 warms in the wind like a blown ruby." 



"Gather a green Poppy bud, just when it shows 

 the scarlet line at its side, break it open and unpack 

 the Poppy. The whole flower is there compact in 

 size and color, its stamens full grown, but all packed 

 so closely that the fine silk of the petals is crushed 

 into a million of wrinkles. When the flower opens, 

 it seems a relief from torture; the two imprisoning 

 green leaves are shaken to the ground, the aggrieved 

 corolla smooths itself in the sun and comforts itself 

 as best it can, but remains crushed and hurt to the 

 end of its days." 



Delicate and fine as is the above description, the 

 sympathetic tribute to the poppy by Celia Thaxter 

 does not suffer in proximity. She says : 



"I know of no flower that has so many charming 

 tricks and manners, none with a method of growth 

 more picturesque and fascinating. The stalks often 

 take a curve, a twist from some current of air, or 



