They whisper to the faithful dead,
With their fresh, vernal breath,
That such his rising hour shall be,
Through Him who conquered death.
The beautiful domain, known by the name of the High Street Garden, in Hartford, comprises sixteen acres, and is laid out with great taste and adaptation to the nature of the soil and surface. Spacious walks are so arranged as to give effect to the elegance of the parterres, and seats skilfully disposed, under spreading shades, where the visitant may rest, and enjoy the surrounding attractions.
Among endless varieties of flowers, three hundred families of the queenly rose, with carnations of every shade and hue, diffuse the richest fragrance in their respective seasons. Partially encompassed by a fine hedge, and approached by steps cut in the turf, is a small circular piece of water, where the broad leaves, and pure petals of the water-lily expand themselves, and around whose margin, vases of the hydrangia luxuriate. The fairest annual flowering plants, shrubs, ornamental trees, foreign and domestic fruits, with a large and splendid green-house, adorn this delightful spot, which, by the liberality of its proprietor. Dr. E. W. Bull, is freely open both to the inhabitants, and to strangers, with only the restriction which their own good sense and good feeling ought to suggest and
