226 Old Time Gardens 



The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table says : " Did 

 you ever hear a poet who did not talk flowers ? 

 Don't you think a poem which for the sake of 

 being original should leave them out, would be like 

 those verses where the letter a or <?, or some other, 

 is omitted ? No ; they will bloom over and over 

 again in poems as in the summer fields, to the end 

 of time, always old and always new." The Auto- 

 crat himself knew well a poet who never talked 

 flowers in his poems, a poet beloved of all other 

 poets, — Arthur Hugh Clough, — though he loved 

 and knew all flowers. From Matthew Arnold's 

 beautiful tribute to him, are a few of his wonderful 

 flower lines, cut out from their fellows : — 



"Through the thick Corn the scarlet Poppies peep, 

 And round green roots and yellowing stalks I see 

 Pale blue Convolvulus in tendrils creep, 



And air-swept Lindens yield 

 Their scent, and rustle down their perfumed showers 

 Of bloom. . . , 



^j^ ^T^ ?J^ JK ^J^ 



"Soon will the high midsummer pomps come on, 

 Soon will the Musk Carnations break and swell. 

 Soon shall we have gold-dusted Snapdragon, 

 Sweet-william with his homely cottage smell, 

 And Stocks in fragrant blow." 



Oh, what a master hand ! Where in all English 

 verse are fairer flower hues ? And where is a more 

 beautiful description of a midsummer evening, than 

 Arnold's exquisite lines beginning: — 



" The evening comes ; the fields are still ; 

 The tinkle of the thirsty rill." 



