•^ The Scented Qarden ^ 



I condemned to live in the tropics, I should be heart-sick 

 every May for the scent of apple blossom. The same 

 quality of purity and wholesomeness is characteristic of 

 the less ethereal scents of bean-flowers, of clover and new- 

 mown hay, and beyond all of heather under a hot sun. 

 The scents of the summer flowers are rich and joyous 

 and sweetest of all are the scents of the * old ' roses. The 

 scent of the cabbage rose is more than a scent. It is the 

 beauty of life itself, of its sorrows as well as its joys. And 

 what of the melodies of wondrous beauty wafted from 

 the snowy trumpets of the Madonna lilies — songs of 

 praise unknown to mortal ears ? The summer flowers 

 laugh and sing and the earth is filled with gladness. No 

 two scents are alike, and yet how perfectly they blend 

 in the garden. ' There is neither speech nor language but 

 their voices are heard among them.' 



" &\)t xoBtn atttr lilies speak folju." 1 



1 George Herbert. 



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