21 



ence of the generous pursuit ; from the sylvan shades of 

 Arqua, and every " bosky bourne" which Boccacio so 

 exquisitely delineates, down to the grottoes and flower- 

 beds of Twickenham, and the almost sacred solitudes of 

 Olney. With what a charm the imagination insensibly 

 clothes the passage of those golden hours, 



When Jonson sat in Drummond's classic shade ! 



What tree of our own planting is more familiar to us than 

 Pope's willow, or Shakspeare's mulberry, set by himself 

 in his garden at New Place ? And we have all of us, I 

 trust, devoutly execrated the barbarous hand, which so 

 recently despoiled this tree of trees, which, but for such 

 sacrilege, might have been visited by our children's chil- 

 dren. And when we read, in one of the early biographies 

 of Milton, that " a pretty garden-house he took in Alders- 

 gate street, at the end of an entry, and therefore the fitter 

 for his turn, by the reason of the privacy, besides that 

 there were few streets in London more free from noise 

 than that;"* we may well believe that there, rather than 

 in the shock of life, his serene imagination might lavish 

 all its riches amongst the flowery groves of Paradise. Yes ! 

 it is the true poets who are with us, not only when the 

 sunshine nestles upon the mossy bank or beds of violets, 

 but who come to us alike when Nature herself is sad 

 and silent, and at the wintry fireside, pour the joy of 

 summer into our longing hearts. It is they who have 

 embroidered the virgin page with inwrought words of 

 every curious hue, — 



Of sable grave, 

 Fresh green, and pleasant yellow, red most brave, 

 And constant blue, rich purple, guiltless white, 

 The lowly russet, and the scarlet bright ; 



• Phillips. 



