OF ALL DAYS you have chosen this one to visit my garden. But the storm passed over my roses last night and the grass is strewn with torn leaves. I do not know what has brought you, now that the hedges are laid low and rills run in the walks; the prodigal wealth of spring is scattered and the scent and song of yesterday are wrecked. Yet stay a while, let me find some remnant flowers, though I doubt if your skirt can be filled. The time will be short, for the clouds thicken and here comes the rain again!