NATURE'S MEMORIAL DAY 187 



flowers by the thirtieth of May. On other years, 

 like this, all things are three weeks or more ahead 

 of season, yet the lilacs hold steadfastly on, and 

 when their need is felt there they are to be 

 gathered in armfuls from willing bushes that go 

 cheerfully at work again to repair the wrecked 

 stems and provide buds for the garnering of 

 another year. The lilac should be the flower of 

 poets and heroes, and as we are all that, however 

 humble our heroism or however shyly hidden our 

 poetry, it is fitting that it should be commonest 

 for the decorations of Memorial Day. 



For the lilac, for all its buxom profusion and 

 its ability to take care of itself in neglected fields 

 and woods where the garden in which it was 

 once delicately nurtured is grown up to grass, the 

 house to which it belonged is crumbled to ruin, 

 and wild woodland things crowd and choke it, is 

 of royal lineage. In the garden of what prince of 

 prehistoric days it first bloomed I cannot say, but 

 it was beloved of Babylonian kings and mingled 

 its perfume with that of the roses in Persepolis 

 when Persia was a seat of learning and refine- 

 ment, while western Europe was yet to emerge 



