And polyanthus of unnumbered dyes,
The yellow wallflower, stained with iron brown,
And lavish stock that scents the garden round;
From the soft wing of vernal breezes shed,
Anemones; auriculas, enriched
With shining meal o'er all their velvet leaves;
And full ranunculus of glowing red.
Then comes the tulip race, where beauty plays
Her idle freaks: from family diffused,
To family, as flies the father-dust,
The varied colours run; and, while they break
On the charmed 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;
Nor broad carnations; nor gay-spottedpinks;
Nor, showered 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!"
The next change was effected by Queen Caroline, wife of George II. Before the year 1736 much of the elaboration of the great parterre had been taken away, grass had been substituted for the minute flower-beds, the smaller fountains had been banished; and "landscape gardening," in the hands of Kent, attempted to destroy the work of Le Nôtre and his pupils.
But no violent change was made. The details of the original plans were altered, but the great semi-
