Golden daffodils were chosen by 

 the goddesses for wreaths and chap- 

 lets and to decorate their altars. We 

 know and love them in old-fashioned 

 gardens, box-bordered and sweet with 

 lilac and lavender, where the tall lark- 

 spur and hollyhock stand up like sen- 

 tinels, and where the thrushes sing at 

 dusk. The bee crawls into the deep 

 tube and comes out covered with 

 golden dust, which he neatly scrapes 

 off and crowds into his two baskets, 

 and carries away to the hive. 



By the Sweet Waters of the Bos- 

 phorus, centuries ago, the Persian 

 lover sought a flower with scarlet 

 petals and a heart of gold. We call 

 it the tulip. To him it was the em- 

 blem of love, and with this flower in 

 his hand no words were needed when 

 he sought his lady. Though in Persia, 

 on the shores of the blue Mediter- 

 ranean, and in parts of Asia, this 

 i8 



