58 
THE BOTANICAL LOOKER-OUT. 
them at risk of life or limb, or some 44 dishonest wound ” in coat or inexpressibles f 
For, strange to say, we have had friends who shrank to gather the Samphire or 
Sea-mallow on their craggy Lime-stone ledges; and could scarcely screw up their 
courage to seize the ancient British Woad (1satis tinctoria ), on its time-honoured 
Red-Marl cliff, with its golden crown, splendid as the torque upon the chieftain 
of old ; or if with daring step they did ascend the precipitous tumulus, awed by 
the genius of the place, they sought an easier though longer downward road! 
Even Botany is not without its incidents. 
But we must digress no further—before us, in its glory and beauty, lies the 
solstitial Flora —the indubitable offspring of Summer, and we must u gather the 
Roses ere they he withered.” Scarcely has the sun of June arisen, in favourable 
years, than a very remarkable change is perceptible in the flowers of the woods, 
meadows, and gardens. The vernal Flora is gone, or at all events a memento of 
it only remains here and there. The flaming Poppy is the first to announce the 
approach of the Summer solstice, by the display of his scarlet banner, and the 
Red Lychnis (L. floscuculi), in damp places, quickly follows, with its ragged pink 
petals, whence it is commonly called 44 Ragged-robin.” Next the yellow specious 
flowers of the common Flag {Iris pseudacorus) glitter in the marsh, where a host 
of splendid bluish-green Dragon-flies, with brown glazed wings {Agrion virgo ), 
are fluttering; and conspicuous in the golden meadows, towering above the 
masses of sweet Honeysuckle Clover, appears the great Summer Daisy {Chrysan¬ 
themum leucanihemum). Now, too, at last, appears, in its multiform varieties 
and exuberant fragrance, the queen of flowers — 
“ Resplendent Rose, the flower of flowers, 
Whose breath perfumes Olympus bowers ; 
Whose virgin blush of chasten’d dye 
Enchants so much our mortal eye. 
***** 
Oh ! there is nought in Nature bright, 
Where Roses do not shed their light!” 
The very sight, or even the name of the Rose , is sufficient to raise our tempera¬ 
ment to the poetical point, and recal a hundred legends and fables relative to this 
universal favourite, from its colour being derived from the blood of Adonis, down 
to the 44 Rosa-mundi ',*** and wars of the Roses, of our own history. As the 
Rose is the emblematical flower of England , as the Thistle is of Scotland, the 
Leek of Wales, and the Trefoil or Shamrock of Ireland, it may be interesting to 
dilate upon it in some degree—popularly, historically, and botanically. The 
Rose has been ever the favourite theme of apologue—its flowers emblematical of 
* Literally, flower of the world; hence the play of words on the inscription to Fair Rosamond— 
“ Rosa-munda , non Rosa-mundi 
