heapes, in the nature of mole-hills (such as are in wild heaths) to be
set, some with wild thyme; some with pincks; some with germander, that
gives a good flower to the eye; some with periwinkle; some with violets;
some with strawberries; some with couslips; some with daisies; some with
red roses; some with lilium convallium; some with sweet-williams red;
some with beares-foot; and the like low flowers, being withall sweet and
sightly. Part of which heapes, to be with standards, of little bushes,
prickt upon their top, and part without. The standards to be roses;
juniper; holly; beareberries (but here and there, because of the smell of
their blossom;) red currans; gooseberries; rosemary; bayes; sweetbriar;
and such like. But these standards, to be kept with cutting, that they
grow not out of course."

Just such, in all but the gooseberries and currants, was the wilderness
of our garden: you came on it by a sudden labyrinthine twist at the end
of a narrow alley of yew, and a sudden door in the high wall. My uncle
said he liked well to see roses in the kitchen-garden, but not
gooseberries in the flower-garden, especially a wild flower-garden.
Wherein lies the difference, I never quite made out, but I feel a
difference. My main delight in the wilderness was to see the roses among
the heather--particularly the wild roses. When I was grown up, the
wilderness always affected me like one of Blake's, or one of Beddoes's
yet wilder lyrics. To make it, my uncle had taken in a part of the heath,
which came close up to the garden, leaving plenty of the heather and
ling. The protecting fence enclosed a good bit of the heath just as it
was, so that the wilderness melted away into the heath, and into the wide
moor--the fence, though contrived so as to be difficult to cross, being
so low that one had to look for it.

Everywhere the inner garden was surrounded with brick walls, and hedges