XV 



THE Hyacinths are all out in the Dutch Garden, But 

 alas, the winds of March ! they grew and gathered and 

 became a gale and laid 

 some twenty of our 

 silver-blue soldiers pros- 

 trate, Their fat juicy 

 stalks snap all too 

 easily. In the pots on 

 the terrace wall, half 

 have been swept away. 

 However, thanks to 

 our close planting, only 

 the eye of the initiate 

 could perceive the gaps. 

 Right under the study 

 windows there are still 

 twin lakes of exquisite 

 pale sapphire, breathing 

 fragrance. 



In the bank below the 

 Dutch Garden, the 

 Narcissus, which have 

 been set to the tune of two 

 thousand, are swaying long 

 lemon-coloured buds out of a field 

 of green spikes. There are, in that tongue of land, two 

 Buddleia trees which have grown to unusual height and girth 

 and are a mass of orange balls in due season. And there is 

 a band of Iris to which we are perpetually adding, but which, 



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