The Man with the Hoe
"The flower of the family" is the old Clove Pink, to which the parentage of our Carnation is by some accorded. The Elizabethan poet Drayton calls these sweet-smelling flowers "Cloves of Paradise," and Lawson—at the close of the sixteenth century—thus extols it: "Of all the flowers save the damask rose they are the most pleasant to sight and smell." "Their use," continues he, "is much in ornament, and comforting the spirits by the sense of smelling."
A syrup made of Clove Pinks (with the probable addition of some stimulant) and called by our English forbears "Sops-in-wine," because of its use in giving flavor to the festive cup, gave to this flower its rather material appellation of Sops-in-wine. Thus sings Spenser:
"Bring Carnations and Sops-in-wine
Worn of paramours" (lovers—wooers).
Bacon informs us that "Sops-in-wine, quantity for quantity, inebriate more than wine itself."
A precious Clove Pink of Botanic Garden origin, for a time bloomed in my border. It has, long since, died of old age.
Shakespeare says in Othello:
"Not poppy, nor mandragora,
Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world
Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep
Which thou had'st yesterday."