Walter Crane - part 15

Walter Crane (15 August 1845 – 14 March 1915) was an English artist and book illustrator. He is considered to be the most influential, and among the most prolific, children's book creators of his generation and, along with Randolph Caldecott and Kate Greenaway, one of the strongest contributors to the child's nursery motif that the genre of English children's illustrated literature would exhibit in its developmental stages in the later 19th century.

Crane's work featured some of the more colourful and detailed beginnings of the child-in-the-garden motifs that would characterise many nursery rhymes and children's stories for decades to come. He was part of the Arts and Crafts movement and produced an array of paintings, illustrations, children's books, ceramic tiles, wallpapers and other decorative arts. Crane is also remembered for his creation of a number of iconic images associated with the international socialist movement.

For more in-depth biographical notes see part 1, and for earlier works see parts 1 - 14 also.

This is part 15 of a 19-part series on the works of Walter Crane.

1899 A Floral Fantasy in an Old English Garden published by Harper & Brothers, London:

A Floral Fantasy in an Old English Garden
watercolour for the cover design 25.4 x 37 cm

Front Cover

End Paper

Title Page

Set forth in verses & coloured designs by Walter Crane

The old English garden a floral phantasy

Of old in Rosamond's Bower,
With its peacock hedges of yew,...

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

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

With a leaf from an old English book -
A jonquil will serve for a pen -

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

First in Venus's looking glass,
You may see where Love Lies Bleeding,

While pretty maids all of the pass
With careless hearts quite unheeding.

Next, a knight with his flaming targe
See the bent de lion so bold...

Simple honesty shows in vain
A fashion few seek to robe in,...

Coltsfoot and Larkspur Speedwell

In the race of flowers that's run due.

As the hartstongue pants at the well

And the houndstongue laps the Sundew.

Here's Venus' combe for maidenhair:
While Kingcups drink Bella-donna,

Clad in purple and gold so fair,
Though the Deadly Nightshade's upon her.

Behold London Pride robed and crowned,
Ushered in by the Golden Rod,...

The Foxgloves are already on,
Not only in pairs but dozens;...

The Stitchwort looked up with a sighh
At Batchelor's Buttons unsewn:

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

The Horse Tail,
'scaped from Wolfe's Claw,
Rides off with a Ladies' Laces.

The Friar's Cowl hides a doctor of law,
And the Bishops'-Weed covers his grace's

The Snapdragon opened his jaw,
But, at sight of Scotch Thistle turned pale:

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

Little Jenny Creeper lay low,
Till happy thoughts made her gladder;,,,

Sweet William with Marygold Seek Hesrtsease in the close box-border,...

Narcissus bends over the brook,
Intent upon Daffa-Down Dilly:

While Eyebright observes from her nook,
And also wonders he could be so silly,

.

A Lance for a Lad 'gainst King's Spear,
when the Bugle sounds for the play

A ladies mantle flaunting there
Is the banner that leads the fray.

Knight's Spur to the Ladieas Bower
To seek for the Ladies Slipper.

'Twas lost in the wood in a summer shower
When the Clowns Wort tried to trip her.

Toad Flax is spun for

Butter and eggs

On a Ladie's Cushion sits Thrift
She never wastes, or steals, or begs,...

Queen of the Meads is Meadowsweet
In the realm of grasses wide:

But not in her court you meet
The turbaned Turks Head in his pride.

Fair Bethlehem' Star shineth bright,
In a lowly place, as of old,

And through the green gloom glows the light
of St. John's Wort - a nimbus of gold.

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

Though Love in a Mist may hide,
When Time's in the garden weeding.

There's Traveller's Joy to entwine,
At our journey's end for greeting.

We can talk over Sops in Wine,
And drink to our next merry meeting.

End Paper