26 STARLIGHT AND SUNSHINE. 
And again in the following lines — what 
an inspiring epitome of the dawn! 
“Hark! hark! the lark at heaven’s gate sings, 
And Pheebus ’gins arise, 
His steeds to water at those springs 
On chaliced flowers that lies; 
And winking Mary-buds begin 
To ope their golden eyes.” 
Indeed, the daisy and the marigold are not 
singular in this retiring tendency. It may 
be said that most flowers manifest a dis- 
position to nod or close at nightfall—the 
wild rose, mallow, pea-blossom, crane’s - bill, 
oxalis, chickweed, mullein, and certain butter- 
cups, for example, and the list might be mul- 
tiplied indefinitely. 
To all these dozy tribes is opposed a 
striking contrast in our beautiful evening 
primrose, one of the loveliest of night- 
blooming flowers. In the midst of all 
this somnolescence what, then, in this 
- particular flower, is that 
“golden care 
y_./ That keeps the ports of slumber open wide 
To many a wakeful night?” 
Not the quality of “care” in the 
poet’s thought, ’tis true, but care 
certainly in the sense of conscious, 
hopeful purpose and bright anticipation. 
For who that has lingered in the twi- 
light and watched the eager bursting 
buds of the primrose, seen the im- 
pulsive greeting in the open welcome 
