THE DAISY. 



" — of all the floures in the mede 

 Than love I most these floures white and rede, 

 Soch that men callen Daisies in our town, 

 To hem I have so great affection, 

 As I sayd erst, whan comen is the Maie, 

 That in my bedde there daweth me no daie. 

 That I n'am up and walking in the mede 

 To see this floure ayenst the Sunne sprede ; 

 Whan it up riseth early by the morrow, 

 That blissful sight softeneth all my sorrow." 



and, as when, ere rosy-fingered morn tinged the eastern sky, 

 he rose, so 



" As soon as ever the Sunne ginneth west 

 To seen this floure, how it will go to rest. 

 For feare of night, so hateth the darknesse, 

 Here chere is plainly spred in the brightness 

 Of the Sunne, for there it will unclose. 



Shelley is reminded, by its ever-blooming, of the (to us) 

 never-setting constellation, commonly known as Charles's- 

 Wain : — 



" Daisies, those pearled Arcturi of the earth, 

 The constellated flower that never sets." 



Again, our poets commonly regard the Daisy as Nature's 

 Favourite; thus Wordsworth, — 



" now my own delights I make, — 

 My thirst at every rill can slake, 

 And gladly Nature's love partake 

 Of the sweet Daisy ! " 



Again he addresses it, — 



72 



