Open afresh your round of starry folds
Ye ardent marigolds!
Dry up the moisture from your golden lids
For great Apollo bids
That in these days your praises should be sung.
I stood tiptoe, etc.—Keats.
The marigold above, t’ adorn the arched bar,
The double daisy, thrift, the button batchelor,
Sweet William, sops-in-wine, the campion.
Polyolbion, Song xv.
The crimson darnel flower, the blue bottle and gold.
Which though esteemed but weeds, yet for their dainty hues
And for their scent not ill, they for this purpose choose.
Ibid.
The yellow kingcup Flora then assigned.
To be the badges of a jealous mind,
The orange-tawny marigold.
Br. Pastorals.
The Marigold has enjoyed great and lasting popularity, and though the flower does not charm by its loveliness, the indomitable courage, with which, after even a sharp frost, it lifts up its hanging head, and shows a cheerful countenance, leads one to feel for it affection and respect. In the end of January (1903) here in Devon there were some flowers and opening buds, though ten days before the ice bore for skating. The Latin name refers to its reputed habit of blossoming on the first days of every month in the year, and in a fairly mild winter this is no exaggeration. Marigolds are dedicated to the Virgin, but this fact is not supposed to have had anything to do with the giving of their name, which had probably been bestowed on them before the Festivals in her honour were kept in England, “Though doubtless,” says Mr Friend, “the name of Mary had much to do with the alterations in the name of Marigold, which may be noticed in its history.” There is an idea that they were appropriated to her because they were in flower at all of her Festivals; but on this notion other authorities throw doubt. In ancient days Marigolds were often called Golds, or Goules, or Ruddes; in Provence, a name for them was “Gauche-fer[45] (left-hand iron) probably from its brilliant disc, suggestive of a shield worn on the left arm.” Chaucer describes Jealousy as wearing this flower: “Jealousy that werede of yelwe guides a garland”; and Browne calls the “orange-tawny marigold” its badge.
There was a very strong belief that the flowers followed the sun, and many allusions are made to this; amongst them, two melancholy lines which are said to have been drawn from some “Meditations” by Charles I., written at Carisbrooke Castle.
“The marigold observes the sun,
More than my subjects me have done.”