Literary Gardens.
Imagine a serene garden. Picture the English hedges. See the tall daffodils. Indeed, there are always daffodils. Are they Wordsworth's? Actually he took them from Dorothy's description in her journal. Seeing them was her experience. He appropriated. Maybe they are the ones Plath planted. Perhaps they are really Lowell's Boston-variety, left as a mocking testament in "Patterns." Anyway, daffodils.
And then irises. Yes. Irises are Bishop's and Crusoe's. Remember the vibrant blue bugs-- wait, there were no irises, just slugs. The irises were Crusoe seeing things in a haze. Well, perhaps Merrill's irises in Sandover that echo Bishop? Oddly, in that moment Bishop has Crusoe think of Wordsworth.
Now imagine an angry Ezra Pound stalking through the garden slicing off the heads of the flowers. Mad Ezra among the irises. That's how Merrill describes Lowell's break with Pound.
Well, this isn't a very quiet garden after all.
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