Primrose. 
263 
of spring;” thus also does Burns term it in “The Posie,” and 
thus also did Linnaeus appropriately name it in his botanical 
system; whilst in his native Swedish it is known as Maj-nycklar , 
or the “ key of May.” Its English appellation is derived from 
primus —“ the first ”—and happily expresses one of its charms. 
If we value the autumn flowers because they are the last, 
because they are soon to leave us, still more do we delight to 
welcome the blossoms of spring. 
This fragile flower is known classically as Pciralisos, and was 
thus styled in commemoration of a youth so named, who pined 
away with grief for the loss of his betrothed, Melicerta, and 
was metamorphosed into 
“ The rathe primrose that, forsaken, dies.” 
There are many varieties of the wild primrose of our island 
which are not pale-coloured. In the northern counties is often 
found the Bird’s-eye Primrose, lilac hued and musky scented; 
and in Scotland there is a species of a purple nearly as deep- 
hued as the garden auricula. Of course, the best known and 
most beloved blossom is the Sulphur-coloured Primrose. It is 
the primrose: it it is, which we associate with cowslips and 
the meadows; it it is, which shines like an earth-star from the 
grass by the brook-side, lighting the hand to pluck it. We do 
indeed give the name of primrose to the other flowers, but we do 
this in courtesy. We feel that they are not the primroses of our 
youth; not the primroses with which we have played at bo-peep 
in the woods; not the irresistible primroses which have so often 
lured our young feet into the wet grass, and procured us 
coughs and chidings. There is a sentiment in flowers; there 
are flowers we cannot look upon, or even hear named, without 
recurring to something that has an interest in our hearts: such 
are the primrose, the May-flower, and the daisy. 
Yes! such a blossom is this, of which Isaak Walton once 
beautifully remarked, “ When I last sat on this primrose-bank, 
and looked down these meadows, I thought of them as Charles 
the Emperor did of Florence, that they were too pleasant to 
be looked on but only on holidays!” 
It is wonderful how strong is the affection entertained for 
those flowers 
“ That dwell beside our paths and homes,” 
