356 MORE POT-POURRI 



a garden is the reward of toil; the earth's cry of delight 

 that winter is over and gone ; the full enjoyment of 

 plenty and rich colour, requiring constant care ; not a 

 place of 'spiritual repose, stillness, and delight.' 



The more splendid of these two villas was, tradition 

 says, designed by Michael Angelo, and it is worthy of 

 his brain and hand. In its large simplicity it reminds 

 one of his will : ' Lascio 1' anima a Dio e la mia roba ai 

 piii prossimi parenti.' This villa stands many miles 

 high on the hillside southwest of Florence, and is 

 approached by the usual stately Cypress avenue. Its 

 massive plain front and its open arcade are most im- 

 pressive. On the right was the solemn shade of the 

 Ilex grove, and beneath was the boundless view of sun- 

 lit Florence. 



The other villa, most wonderful of all as regards its 

 surroundings and views, was Villa Gamberaia (which 

 means, 'Pool of the Crayfish '), four or five miles from 

 Florence, beyond Settingiano. I suppose everyone who 

 goes to Florence sees it, or used to do so ; now it is 

 more difficult. Napoleon III. lived in it at one time. I 

 wonder if in after-life his thoughts sometimes turned 

 with sorrowful regrets to the peaceful days passed 

 there ? Here were Cypresses taller and straighter than 

 any I had ever seen ; long, green alleys, ending in small 

 temples; high walls over which Oleanders tossed them- 

 selves, their branches heavy with the bloom of their 

 exquisite pink flowers ; and all the long afternoon of 

 the late June day the nightingales sang. Why, in colder 

 climes, do they stop singing so much earlier in the year, 

 and here they sing well into midsummer? With the 

 exception of these nightingales in favoured woods, the 

 birds are very silent in Italy in June. But the sounds 

 are many frogs, insects, the constant singing of the 

 grasshoppers. Keats says : ' The poetry of Earth is 





