SOMERSET 
CHAP. 
138 
trees. Another tree, with clusters of flowers like a 
jessamine, is a mass of starry blossoms, and the whole 
air is redolent with its scent. 
Marcus Clarke in his beautifully-phrased introduction 
to the poems of Adam Lindsay Gordon, characterises 
Australia as “ a land whose flowers are without scent, 
whose birds are without song, whose trees are without 
shade ; a land where Nature was learning her ABC, 
and upon which she had scribbled her early thoughts 
in quaint and curious hieroglyphs, in savage and secret 
signs, laden with Sibylline oracles of Orphic potency ; a 
land in which the deep-voiced wind that sweeps the 
broad bosom of the earth makes wild and mournful 
melody — a melody that moans in the leaves of the 
spectral gum, or whispers among the feathery foliage 
of the weird casuarina” Now, however eloquent such 
a description may undoubtedly be, the writer has 
allowed his wish for effect to mar his accuracy ; and, 
although our landscapes may frequently present only 
the sad or savage aspect of Nature, the flowers of 
the Australian bush are beautiful, and noted for 
delicacy of form and richness of colour to such an 
extent, that in external loveliness they may well 
challenge comparison with the tenderly-nurtured children 
of the gardens and conservatories of the older world. 
To stigmatise them as without scent is, moreover, 
a grave injustice, for many of them emit freely a 
perfume which fills the surrounding air with fragrance. 
What can be more exquisite or more delicate than the 
scent of Boronia megastigma and Boronia heterophylla ; 
of Boronia serrulata , Sydney native rose, of many of 
the acacias ; of Arthropodium strictum ; of Alyxia 
buxifolia, or of the beautiful so-called “rock -lily” of 
Sydney, Dendrobium speciosum ? Surely Marcus Clarke 
was a little too sweeping in his condemnation. 
