Transactions. 63 



We have all heard of the " Man of the Moon." 

 Violets, — The violet was an emblem of early death. — Pericles, 

 IV., 1. 



In " Winter's Tale " there is a beautiful allusion to them — 



" 0, Proserpina, 



For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou lett'st fall 



From Dis's waggon ! daffodils 



That come before the swallow dares and take* 



The wmds of March with beauty ; violets, dim. 



But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes, 



Or Cytherea's breatli ; pale primroses 



That die unmarried, ere they can behold 



Bright Phcebus in his strength ; bold oxlips and 



The crown-imperial ; lilies of all kinds. 



The flower-de-luce being one." 

 I must dismiss Burns with a very few words. Everyone has 

 admired his poem on the Daisy, liis comparison of the pleasures 

 of life to the evanescent bloom of poppies, his lone glen o' green 

 brackens, wi' the burn stealing under the lang yellow broom, the 

 rose and the woodbine twining along the banks of Doon, the 

 fragrant birk, the haiotJiorn hoar that mingled together over- 

 looking the stream of the Ayr. In the matter of flowers, how- 

 ever, he was a poet first and a florist afterwards. He pulls a 

 posie for his ain dear May, but it is an ideal posie, impossible in 

 nature. He puts into it the primrose and tlie rose. He places 

 the hyacinth beside the hawthorn, entirely regardless of times 

 and seasons. At the same time, in bis " Lament of Mary Queen 

 of Scots," there is tender pathos in the references to spring 

 flowers she can neither see nor enjoy, although there is again 

 inaccuracy in having the slae and the hawthorn blooming 

 simultaneously. His fervid allusions to our Scottish heather are 

 also dear to our hearts, while his pithy song of " Green grow the 

 rashes" is rooted in our memories. On New Year's Day, 1789, 

 he addressed a letter to Mrs Dunlop. " I have some favourite 

 flowers in spring, among which are the mountain daisy, the hare- 

 bell (here he evidently means the blue squill or hyacinth of our 

 woods), the fox-glove, the wild brier rose (here he gets mixed, 

 putting in summer blooms), the budding birch, and the hoary 

 hawthorn, that I view and hang over with particular delight." In 

 all these cases the intensity of emotion created by these beautiful 

 objects of nature in the poet's breast must more than excuse any 

 inaccuracy in observation. 



* Charm. 



