A MIDSUMMER 



NIGHT'S 



DREAM 



A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM 



It is not the dream that Shakespeare dreamed. 

 We are not at Athens, but in my garden. 



Shall it be a night in June, the time of the 

 perfect summer night ? 



"And what is so rare as a day in June?" 



Nothing, unless it be a night in June. And 

 yet we will choose a night in August, for 

 August is the month of the night garden. 



It is "the night that calms" — a time for 

 gentle thoughts and memories. Peace falls on 

 mind and body as softly as petals drop on the 

 lawn. 



It is now that the garden shows its most 

 poetic side. The trees cast etching-like shad- 

 ows in the broad moonlight. Fronds gently 

 wave, and tendrils sway in the light breeze; 

 leaves murmur in tree and bush; perhaps a 

 bird twitters love to his mate. Here and there 



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