Now tell your story, hyacinth; and show 

 Jli, Jll, the more amidst your sanguine wo. 



Calendar of Nature, G. ofF. 



" Or that red flower whose lips ejaculate 



Wo." Garland of Flora. 



Camus,* reverend sire, went footing slow, 

 His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge, 

 Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge, 

 Like to that sanguine flower, inscribed with wo. 



Milton's Lycidas. 



The Martagon, of classic honours vain, 

 Bears on his brow the gory spotted stain. 

 Still darkly graved on each returning bloom 

 The moans of Phoebus, and the Hero's doom. 



Dr. Evans. 



The Flora Historica remarks that " some authors sup- 

 pose the red Martagon lily to be the poetical Hyacinth of 

 the ancients, but this is evidently a mistaken opinion, as the 

 azure colour would decide and a blue Martagon will be 

 sought in vain. Pliny describes the Hyacinth, as having a 

 sword grass leaf, and the scent of the grape flower, which 

 agrees with the Hyacinth, but not with the Martagon." 

 Upon the whole, it appears to be an affair not easily decided. 



The drooping pendulous growth of the Hyacinth is allu- 

 ded to in the following lines: 



The melancholy hyacinth, that weeps 

 All night and never lifts an eye all day. 



The languid hyacinth who wears 



His bitter sorrow painted on his bosom. 



Hurdis. 



G. of Flora. 



And for their grateful perfume, we have 



There were 



Hyacinths, with their graceful bells, 

 Where the spirit of odour dwells. London, G. F. 



Breathe o'er the hyacinth bells 

 Where, every summer, odour dwells. L. E. L. 



The sad blue, or purple colour, is noticed by PercivaL 



" A hyacinth lifted its purple bell 



From the slender leaves around it; 



It curved its cup in a flowing swell, 



And a starry circle crowned it; 



The deep blue tincture that robed it, seem'd, 



The gloomiest garb of sorrow, 



As if on its eye no brightness beamed, 



And it never in clearer moments dreamed, 



Of a fair and calm to-morrow." 



The colours for mourning are various, in different coun- 

 tries; and for each there is an assigned reason. 



In Europe, the ordinary colour for mourning is black 

 denoting the privation of life; as being the privation of light. 



In Turkey blue or violet denotes mourning. Blue, as 

 expressing the happiness which it is hoped the deceased en- 

 joy; and purple, or violet, sorrow on the one side, and hope 

 on the other, as being a mixture of black and blue. Kings 

 and Cardinals always mourn in purple. 



In China, it is white; supposed to denote purity. 



The ancient Spartan and Roman Ladies mourned in 

 white; and the same colour obtained formerly in Castile, on 

 the death of their Princes. The last time it was used was 

 in 1498, at the death of Prince John. 



In Egypt, yellow is the mourning colour, denoting that 

 death is the end of human hopes; as leaves when they fall, 

 and flowers when they fade, become yellow. 



In Ethiopia, brown, the emblem of mourning, denotes 

 the earth, whither the dead return. 



The memory of the lamented Hyacinthus was kept 

 alive by annual solemnities called Hyacinthia, celebrated at 

 Amycla? in Laconia, which lasted three days. The first day 

 was devoted to mourning for Hyacinthus, the other two were 

 spent in games and festivals in honour of Apollo, and in allu- 

 sion to the fabulous origin of this favourite flower, by the 

 death of the youth, while Apollo was engaged in one of these 

 games. 



Nor are the Spartans, who so much are fam'd 

 For virtue, of their hyacinth asham'd; 

 But still with pompous wo, and solemn state, 

 The hyacinthian feasts they yearly celebrate. 



OzilFs Ovid. 



The English Hyacinth, non scriptus, commonly called 

 harebell, from the bell- shape of its flowers, and from its being 

 found so frequently in those thickets most frequented by 

 hares, is of a clear blue, occasionally seen with a pure white 

 corolla. It has been scarcely less celebrated than the poetic 

 hyacinth. Shakspeare's magic pen is alone sufficient to give 

 it the stamp of celebrity. 



With fairest flowers 



Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele, 

 I'll sweeten thy sad grave: thou shall not lack 

 The flower that's like thy face, pale Primrose, nor 

 The azure harebell, like thy veins. Shaks. 



In the lone copse, or shady dell, 

 Wild cluster'd knots of harebells blow. 



Char. Smith. 



stands. 



The poetical name of the river Cam, on which Cambridge 



The harebell, for her stainless azured hue, 

 Claims to be worn by none but those are true. 



W. Browne. 



Dioscorides tells us, that the root of this flower will pro- 

 cure hair on bald, and beardless men. 

 The cottage children call it blue bell. 



