At last the
lady doth reveal herself; she is fragrant and opens in red energy to the dawn. She
will have no less than the want of all men's eyes upon her till sunset comes and
then within the sweet calm of night she will arouse within them their secrets
of day. For maturity comes and with it the passion of expectation is played upon
the green lawns of July. For this is the daughter of William Shakespeare and we
would have no less to grace our garden
