CHAPTER VI 

 IMPRESSIONS OF A JUNE MORNING 



Soon will the high Midsummer pomps come on, 



Soon will the musk carnations break and swell, 

 Soon shall we have gold-dusted snapdragons; 



Sweet-William with his homely cottage-smell, 

 And stocks in fragrant blow; 



Roses that down the alleys shine afar, 

 And open, jasmine-muffled lattices, 

 And groups under the dreaming garden-trees, 



And the full moon and the white evening-star. 



— Matthew Arnold. 



WHAT a chaos of beauty there is upon a June morn- 

 ing! Standing in the midst of the garden one 

 experiences a sort of breathlessness of soul, and 

 sends forth little subconscious pleas to the powers that 

 govern our limitations for more capacity to enjoy the 

 bounty of this glowing, exuberant month. June is so 

 prodigal, so extravagant of all that makes the world beauti- 

 ful, so kind to gardeners. We should be thankful for even 

 one of the great flower families that grace this month — for 

 the Roses, the Lupines, the Peonies, the Iris — but June 

 comes to us with a green apron recklessly overflowing, 

 spreading her largess upon every hand, until it is small 

 wonder that we stand bewildered. 



