"Gardens bright with sinuous rills"

In Compiegne did Louis XV
a stately residence decree:
Where l'Oise, the sacred river, ran
through regions so dear to this man
in the land of Picardie.

We got off the bus in Compiegne at the palace, or Chateau de Compiegne. I had been there many years before. The chateau is tremendous inside; it is fabulous. I like it even better than the palace at Versailles. (There are a lot fewer people for one, and it has a lot of 1st Empire stuff which I enjoy, for another. Napoleon had the place restored and made it an imperial palace). We had hoped to be in time to tour the palace and then visit the beautiful and expansive gardens.

And we nearly did. Did you ever notice that if you add the word "nearly" to a positive statement, it turns the statement into a negative. It's really just a softer way of saying something failed. For example, saying that a ballplayer nearly caught the ball, sounds much better than saying that he missed the ball. "Nearly" creates the illusion of success, or very nearly does, almost. (For a discussion of the effect of the word "almost" please see "nearly."

We went inside and found the usual metal detector with the requisite inspector-of-all-things-carried. 
"Is this the way to see the chateau," I asked. 
"Yes, but it is closed," he said. "But you can still see the gardens."
"I understood the chateau was open for another hour, until 1800."
"It is, but it's too late to enter now. But you can still see the gardens."
"If it's still open, why can't we go inside?"
"Because it closes at 1800. But you can still visit the gardens."
"Well, then. We'll go in for a quick tour and then see the gardens."
"It's too late to visit the chateau. But you can still visit the gardens." He seemed noticeably frustrated at this point in trying to explain the situation. He wasn't doing a very good job of it.
"But it's open until 1800. We'll see the chateau and then visit the gardens."
"You are too late to come in the chateau, but you can still visit the gardens."

We spoke a little more to get some clarification. The bottom line was that we were not getting into the chateau. Apparently the rule is quite firm that if one does not arrive more than an hour before the closing of the chateau, one does not get to enter the chateau, even though the chateau does not close until 1800 (which is 6:00 p.m.). It was 5:15; we weren't getting in. Missed it by that much.

Much to the amusement of the other chateau workers who were witnessing our conversation, I finally informed the good man that we would skip the chateau and just visit the gardens. The whole conversation was worth it just to see them enjoy the frustration of their colleague. 

The gardens are truly remarkable. We walked around the side of the chateau and enjoyed the view down the great alley that joins the palace gardens with the great forest. We admired the statuary and got some pictures of them. I particularly liked a secluded Grecian gazebo (I'm sure there's better, more architecturally correct word for it, but I don't know what it is). There were a few people enjoying the great grassy expanse in the middle of the gardens, but not many. We nearly had the gardens to ourselves (nearly, see: almost). A quiet peaceful walk with my wife in the gardens of the imperial palace; what a great day!

...

And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, 

Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree; 

And here were forests ancient as the hills, 

Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.