Oh, what a master hand! Where in all English verse are fairer flower hues? And where is a more beautiful description of a midsummer evening, than Arnold's exquisite lines beginning:-- "The evening comes; the fields are still; The tinkle of the thirsty rill." Dr. Holmes was also a master in the description of garden flowers. I should know, had I never been told save from his verses, just the kind of a Cambridge garden he was reared in, and what flowers grew in it. Lowell, too, gives ample evidence of a New England childhood in a garden. The gardens of Shenstone's _Schoolmistress_ and of Thomson's poems come to our minds without great warmth of welcome from us; while Clare's lines are full of charm:-- "And where the Marjoram once, and Sage and Rue, And Balm, and Mint, with curl'd leaf Parsley grew, And double Marigolds, and silver Thyme, And Pumpkins 'neath the window climb. And where I often, when a child, for hours Tried through the pales to get the tempting flowers, As Lady's Laces, everlasting Peas, True-love-lies-bleeding, with the Hearts-at-ease And Goldenrods, and Tansy running high, That o'er the pale tops smiled on passers by." A curious old seventeenth-century poet was the Jesuit, Rene Rapin. The copy of his poem entitled _Gardens_ which I have seen, is the one in my daughter's collection of garden books; it was "English'd by the Ingenious Mr. Gardiner," and published in 1728. Hallam in his _Introduction to the Literature of Europe_ gives a capital estimate of this long poem of over three thousand lines. I find them pretty dull reading, with much monotony of adjectives, and very affected notions for plant names. I fancy he manufactured all his tedious plant traditions himself. [Illustration: Garden of Mary Washington.] A pleasing little book entitled _Dante's Garden_ has collected evidence, from his writings, of Dante's love of green, growing things. The title is rather strained, since he rarely names individual flowers, and only refers vaguely to their emblematic significance. I would have entitled the book _Dante's Forest_, since he chiefly refers to trees; and the Italian gardens of his days were of trees rather than flowers. There are passages in his writings which have led some of his worshippers to believe that his childhood was passed in a garden; but these references are very indeterminate. The picture of a deserted garden, with its sad sentiment has charmed the fancy of many a poet. Hood, a true flower-lover, wrote this jingle in his _Haunted House_:-- "The Marigold amidst the nettles blew, The Gourd embrac'd the Rose bush in its ramble. The Thistle and the Stock together grew, The Hollyhock and Bramble. "The Bearbine with the Lilac interlaced, The sturdy Burdock choked its tender neighbor, The spicy Pink. All tokens were effaced Of human care and labor."