. A tour round my garden . Natural history. FLOWEKSj AND THEIR MEMORIES. 143 which blossom gillyflowers, and my heart beats as if I were about to find her in the garden. That convolrulns, those beautiful violets, white, rose-coloured, streaked bells, which climb up trees and shrubs, tell me on what day it was we sowed some of its seeds together, and at what hour of the day, and what was the form at that instant of the wliite clouds in the blue heavens, and how, on rising up, as we had stooped to put the seeds in the ground, our hair touched; and my hair again seems to communicate an electric s
. A tour round my garden . Natural history. FLOWEKSj AND THEIR MEMORIES. 143 which blossom gillyflowers, and my heart beats as if I were about to find her in the garden. That convolrulns, those beautiful violets, white, rose-coloured, streaked bells, which climb up trees and shrubs, tell me on what day it was we sowed some of its seeds together, and at what hour of the day, and what was the form at that instant of the wliite clouds in the blue heavens, and how, on rising up, as we had stooped to put the seeds in the ground, our hair touched; and my hair again seems to communicate an electric shock to my heart. And, afterwards, how both arose early to see our con- volvulus, whose flowers close and fade as soon as they are touched by the sun. I still know which of the plants bloomed first; it was a large bell of a beautiful dark blue, passing to violet by insensible gradations as the eye approached the bottom of the flower, which was white. There were some white ones, divided by a rose-coloured, faint blue, or violet cross; others of a pale rose, with a deeper-coloured cross; some striped with white, rose, and violet. And the large Passe-Eoses, with their noble and majestic port, like that of Italian poplars. There were lime-trees in the garden, a tuft of yellow blossoms always filled with bees, black and orange drones, and large black flies with violet wings. It appears to me when I here see the yellow Passe- Eoses, and black flies with violet wings, and bees, and brown and orange drones, it appears to me that these things, like those of another time, draw other circumstances after them, like the beads of a rosary. Blossom, blossom! graceful monuments which I have raised to my beloved dead, to all that I have believed, to all that I have loved, to all that I have hoped, to all that which like thee has blossomed in my heart, to all that has faded, but for ever, whilst every summer ye return with your beauty, your youth, and your perfume!. Please note that these images
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