154 A GARDEN DIARY 



been a pair of sober horticulturists, and we will 

 continue to be so still. Our rose-jungle must 

 wait. It is only postponed : we will have it 

 yet, and in a better place. Even if we never 

 did have it, even if the postponement had to be 

 an eternal one, is it not, one sometimes asks 

 oneself, the gardens that never have been planted 

 "whose flowers ne'er fed the bee"; whose dusky 

 scented walks no foot has ever trod, that yield 

 the deepest, the most unqualified enjoyment ? 

 " Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard 

 are sweeter." What then of unseen gardens? 

 What wealth of blossoms! what a flood of sun- 

 shine, which yet never scorches ! what green and 

 translucent groves, which at the same time are 

 never damp ! what order, without the faintest 

 touch of formality! what wildness, what heavenly 

 entanglements, without so much as an approach 

 to confusion ! But I perceive that I am again 

 wandering out of the domain of horticulture, into 

 a much less attainable region, and it may be as 

 well, therefore, to pause. 



