A Floral Fantasy in an Old English Garden   By: Walter Crane (1845-1915)

BY WALTER CRANE

NEW YORK & LONDON HARPER AND BROTHERS

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A FLORAL FANTASY IN AN OLD ENGLISH GARDEN

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SET FORTH IN VERSES & COLOURED DESIGNS BY WALTER CRANE

LONDON: AT THE HOUSE OF HARPER AND BROTHERS: 1899

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THE OLD ENGLISH GARDEN

A FLORAL PHANTASY

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In an old world garden dreaming, Where the flowers had human names, Methought, in fantastic seeming, They disported as squires and dames.

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Of old in Rosamond's Bower, With it's peacock hedges of yew, One could never find the flower Unless one was given the clue; So take the key of the wicket, Who would follow my fancy free, By formal knot and clipt thicket, And smooth greensward so fair to see

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And while Time his scythe is whetting, Ere the dew from the grass has gone,

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The Four Seasons' flight forgetting, As they dance round the dial stone;

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With a leaf from an old English book, A Jonquil will serve for a pen.

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Let us note from the green arbour's nook, Flowers masking like women and men.

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FIRST in VENUS'S LOOKING GLASS, You may see where LOVE LIES BLEEDING,

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While PRETTY MAIDS all of them pass With careless hearts quite unheeding.

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Next, a knight with his flaming targe See the DENT DE LION so bold With his feathery crest at large, On a field of the cloth of gold.

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Simple honesty shows in vain A fashion few seek to robe in, While the poor SHEPHERD'S PURSE is ta'en By rascally RAGGED ROBIN.

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COLTSFOOT and LARKSPUR

SPEEDWELL

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In the race of the flowers that's run due,

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As the HARTSTONGUE pants at the well

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And the HOUNDSTONGUE laps the SUNDEW.

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Here's VENUS' COMBE for MAIDENHAIR: While KING CUPS drink BELLA DONNA,

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Glad in purple and gold so fair, Though the DEADLY NIGHTSHADE'S upon her.

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Behold LONDON PRIDE robed & crowned, Ushered in by the GOLDEN ROD, While a floral crowd press around, Just to win from her crest a nod.

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The FOXGLOVES are already on. Not only in pairs but dozens; They've come out to see all the fun, With sisters and aunts and cousins.

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The STITCHWORK looked up with a sigh At BATCHELOR'S BUTTONS unsewn:

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Single Daisies were not in her eye, For the grass was just newly mown.

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The HORSE TAIL, 'scaped from WOLFE'S CLAW, Rides off with a LADIES' LAGES.

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The FRIAR'S COWL hides a doctor of law, And the BISHOP'S WEED covers his grace's

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The SNAPDRAGON opened his jaw, But, at sight of Scotch THISTLE, turned pale:

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He'd too many points of the law For a dragon without a scale.

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Little JENNY CREEPER lay low, Till happy thoughts made her gladder; How to rise in the world she'd know, So she climbed up JACOB'S LADDER

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SWEET WILLIAM with MARYGOLD Seek HEARTSEASE in the close box border. Where, starched in their ruff's stiff fold, DUTCH DAHLIAS prim, keep order.

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NARCISSUS bends over the brook, Intent upon DAFFA DOWN DILLY:

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While EYEBRIGHT observes from her nook, And wonders he could be so silly.

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A LANCE FOR A LAD 'gainst KING'S SPEAR. When the BUGLE sounds for the play

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A LADIES MANTLE flaunting there Is the banner that leads the fray.

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KNIGHT'S SPUR to the LADIES BOWER To seek for the LADIES SLIPPER.

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'Twas lost in the wood in a summer shower When the CLOWN'S WORT tried to trip her.

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TOAD FLAX is spun for BUTTER AND EGGS

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On a LADIES' CUSHION sits THRIFT She never wastes, or steals, or begs, But she can't give poor RAGWORT a lift.

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QUEEN OF THE MEADS is MEADOWSWEET, In the realm of grasses wide:

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But not in all her court you meet The turbaned TURK'S HEAD in his pride.

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Fair BETHLEHEM' STAR shineth bright, In a lowly place, as of old,

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And through the green gloom glows the light Of ST. JOHN'S WORT a nimbus of gold.

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But the hours of the sun swift glide, And the flowers with them are speeding.

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Though LOVE IN A MIST may hide. When Time's in the garden weeding.

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There's TRAVELLER'S JOY To entwine, At our journey's end for greeting,

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We can talk over SOPS IN WINE, And drink to our next merry meeting.

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PRINTED BY EDMUND EVANS

BOUND BY LEIGHTON SON & HODGE

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[Illustration: A FLORAL FANTASY]