140 IN HONOREM. 



? James Montgomery, whose admiration of nature is some- 

 what frigid, can yet remind us that 



" The rose has but a summer reign, 

 The daisy never dies." 



Chaucer warms into enthusiasm when he thinks of its 

 pastoral, innocent gracefulness (" simplex munditiis ") : 



" So glad am I when in the Daisy's presence, 

 That I am fain to do her reverence ; 

 For she of all sweet flowers is the flower 

 With virtue filled, and honourable power ; 

 For ever fair alike, and fresh of hue, 

 As well in winter as in summer new." 



Let us not omit a reference to quaint but genial William 

 Browne : 



" The Daisie, scattered on each meade and down, 

 A golden tuft within a silver crowne : 

 Fair fall that dainty flower ! and may there be 

 No shepherd graced that does not honour thee ! " 



Yes ! let no poet be taken to your heart of hearts who 

 has no love for the "flower white and rede," in French, 

 called "La Belle Marguerite," 



" The op'ning go wan, wet wi' dew," 



Burns's "bonnie gem," the flower of the meadow and 

 the lea, of the woodland and the vale. 



A modest, unassuming flower, destined to be trodden 

 under the feet of the thoughtless, it withstands the rigorous 

 breath of winter, is beautiful throughout the circle of the year 

 BelHs perennis, as the Swedish botanist not infelicitously 

 called it. Its vegetation is arrested only during the harshest 



