The Home Garden

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D. Appleton, 1881 - Gardens - 121 pages

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Page 4 - On the charm'd eye, the exulting florist marks, With secret pride, the wonders of his hand. No gradual bloom is wanting ; from the bud First-born of Spring, to Summer's musky tribes : Nor hyacinths, of purest virgin white, Low-bent, and blushing inward ; nor jonquils, Of potent fragrance ; nor narcissus fair, As o'er the fabled fountain hanging still...
Page 4 - The ethereal mountain, and the distant main. But why so far excursive? when at hand, Along these blushing borders bright with dew, And in yon mingled wilderness of flowers, Fair-handed Spring unbosoms every grace — Throws out the snow-drop and the crocus first, The daisy, primrose, violet darkly blue, And polyanthus of...
Page 5 - In the pleasure-grounds of Brentham were the remains of an ancient garden of the ancient house that had long ago been pulled down. When the modern pleasuregrounds were planned and created, notwithstanding the protests of the artists in landscape, the father of the present Duke would not allow this ancient garden to be entirely destroyed, and you came upon its quaint appearance in the dissimilar world in which it was placed, as you might in some festival of romantic costume upon a person habited in...
Page 4 - Low-bent, and blushing inward ; nor jonquils, Of potent fragrance ; nor Narcissus fair, As o'er the fabled fountain hanging still ; Nor broad carnations, nor gay-spotted pinks ; Nor, shower'd from every bush, the damask-rose. Infinite numbers, delicacies, smells, With hues on hues expression cannot paint, The breath of Nature, and her endless bloom...
Page 6 - ... and jessamine clustering over the walls, and gillyflowers scenting with their sweet breath the ancient bricks from which they seemed to spring. There were banks of violets which the southern breeze always stirred, and mignonette filled every vacant nook.
Page 6 - ... and gillyflowers scenting with their sweet breath the ancient bricks from which they seemed to spring. There were banks of violets which the southern breeze always stirred, and mignonette filled every vacant nook. As they entered now, it seemed a blaze of roses and carnations, though one recognised in a moment the presence of the lily, the heliotrope, and the stock. Some white peacocks were basking on the southern wall, and one of them, as their visitors entered, moved and displayed its plumage...

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