A DREAM OF BEAUTY 



I am in my garden of dreams. The transition 

 from the garden of flowers is so easy, so inevit- 

 able. 



We are made for dreams. We are full of 

 yearnings for the unrealized. The most perfect 

 thing on earth does not wholly satisfy us. The 

 loveliest flower makes us long for a beauty that 

 is not of earth. 



My garden has much of a very lovable kind 

 of beauty, but when I most feel its beauty I am 

 most sure that this loveliness of sky and flower 

 is but a prophecy of a loveliness infinitely more 

 lovely. 



Is the flower flawless? This wondrous rose, 

 this superb lily, is it perfect? 



It would seem not, for men are constantly 

 seeking to improve it, and when we remember 

 how many of the wonderful flowers of the 

 twentieth century gardens have been brought 

 [in] 



