Myrtle

The night before last, on Gardeners' World, the estimable Monty Don was talking about the beautiful and fragrant shrub Myrtle, which reminded me that I really must get a bush for the garden – and also reminded me of one of those Browning poems with an instantly memorable first line, 'The Patriot'. The first line I remembered was 'It was roses, roses, all the way', but wasn't there something about myrtle too? There was indeed, as I discovered when I reread the poem (after many years, I think). I also discovered what a vivid, hard-hitting piece it is. It's short and simple, but is surely one of the most powerful depictions of the brevity and uncertainty of fame and the awful vicissitudes of fate – not to mention the fickleness of the crowd (no doubt Browning had the French Revolution in mind)...The PatriotAn Old StoryIIt was roses, roses, all the way,With myrtle mixed in my path like mad:The house-roofs seemed to heave and sway,The church-spires flamed, such flags they had,A year ago on…