‘Daisies with their pinky lashes’
are among the first darlings of spring. They are in flower almost all the year; closing in the evening, and in wet weather, and opening on the return of the sun.”
In the poem of a living poet are these elegant stanzas:
To the Daisy.
A nun demure, of lowly port;
Or sprightly maiden of Love’s court,
In thy simplicity the sport
Of all temptations;
A queen in crown of rubies drest;
A starveling in a scanty vest;
Are all, as seem to suit thee best,
Thy appellations.
A little Cyclops, with one eye
Staring to threaten or defy,
That thought comes next, and instantly
The freak is over;
The freak will vanish, and behold!
A silver shield with boss of gold,
That spreads itself, some fairy bold
In fight to cover.
I see thee glittering from afar;
And then thou art a pretty star,
Not quite so fair as many are
In heaven above thee!
Yet like a star, with glittering crest,
Self-poised in air, thou seem’st to rest;—
May peace come never to his nest,
Who shall reprove thee.
Sweet flower! for by that name at last,
When all my reveries are past,
I call thee, and to that cleave fast;
Sweet silent creature!
That breath’st with me in sun and air,
Do thou, as thou art wont, repair
My heart with gladness, and a share
Of thy meek nature.
Wordsworth.