CHAPTER XXVII. 



THE PAEK. 



Now that we have received a long overdue instalment 

 of summer weather, an opportunity has been afforded 

 of viewing Hyde Park to the greatest advantage. 

 Many and great have been the improvements effected 

 in the metropolis, but none equal the alterations that 

 have been made in the parks, by planting and beauti- 

 fying what were barren common-like lands, and 

 converting them into trimly-kept pleasure-grounds, 

 gay with parterres of lovely flowers, blossoming shrubs, 

 and smooth velvety lawns. Entering the Park a few 

 days since, I found the rhododendrons, azaleas, and 

 other beautiful shrubs in full bloom, and I said to 

 myself : 



Who can paint 



Like Nature ? Can imagination boast, 

 Amidst its gay creation, hues like hers ? 

 Or can it mix them with that matchless skill, 

 And lose them in each other, as appears 

 In every bud that blows ? If fancy then 

 Unequal fails beneath the pleasing task, 

 Ah ! what shall language do ! 



The day was lovely, and a host of gaily-dressed 

 ladies were promenading beneath the shades of the 

 spreading elms; whilst others more or less well- 



