128 A WHITE-PAPER GARDEN 



of us has a list of favourite words which we say 

 over as a private litany of our own. I, for one, 

 would think but ill of one from which the name 

 of the rose were left out. 



High priest of the goddess yet only a quiet 

 clergyman in a cathedral close Dean Hole 

 takes this for the text of one of his garden 

 sermons : 



" If a man would have beautiful roses in his 

 garden, he must have beautiful roses in his 

 heart." 



Were my purse but as full as my gratitude 

 is deep, I should like to^ print and scatter 

 broadcast the works of this Dean of Roses, 

 binding up with them St John's vision of the 

 New Jerusalem. As a Tract for the Times 

 how much they would teach of patience and 

 contentment and gentleness and all sweet 

 courtesy and brotherliness. I would have 

 liked to listen to the hymns and canticles of a 

 service of his ordering. There would have 

 been : 



" By cool Siloam's shady rill 

 How fair the lily grows ! 

 How sweet the breath beneath the hill 

 Of Sharon's dewy rose." 



