THE LOVE OF FLO WEES. 
305 
should not feel tlie freshness and brilliancy of their de¬ 
scriptions of nature, sweeping over the spirit like a frag¬ 
ment of old music, or breathings from a blossom-scented 
valley. Now we can go to the silvery streams in com¬ 
pany with old Izaak Walton, where the whirling currents 
play with the reeds and water-flags, and the green wil¬ 
lows bow down to kiss the flowing stream; then we 
remember the milkmaid, and the draught of cowVmilk; 
the shelter under the honeysuckle hedge; the fish fried 
in cowslips; the little sleeping-room, smelling sweetly of 
lavender; and the flowers, which old Izaak thought too 
beautiful to be seen at any other times than holidays. 
We love the old man, who in the innocence of his heart 
could sing— 
“ I in these flowery meads would he, 
These crystal streams should solace me; 
To whose harmonious, babbling noise, 
I, with my angle, would rejoice.” 
Pleasant it is to wander forth, as did Solomon of old, 
“ into the fields, or to lodge in the villages, to see the 
fruits of the valley, and to go into the gardens and 
gather liliesand to inhale the perfumes of the banks 
and fields. The royal garden of an eastern prince is 
called the “ Garden of God,” a name which is usually 
supposed to refer to the Garden of Eden, and a promise 
adapted to the love of nature and of virtue. To the 
faithful follower of the Prophet, the Koran promised 
greetings of “good tidings, gardens through which rivers 
flow ; and ye shall remain therein for ever.” 
The flowers of the wild have ever a greater hold upon 
the affections than the nurtured beauties of the garden or 
x 
