POETRY OF FLOWERS. 157 
MAKYGOLD. 
Calendula , officinalis . . Class 19 ; 0\ der 4. 
CONTEMPT.—'GRIEF. 
Leave me to my lot! 
Be it or death or slavery, it were bliss 
To what thy love would proffer! I am free! 
Talk to the wild bird battling with the storm, 
Of shelter in the cage; or woo the kid 
From the bluff rocks to nestle at thy feet; 
But mock not me with bribes ! 
The classic name for this flower is Calendula , 
which some writers translate into the “flower 
of all the months;” a title given to it, they add, 
in consequence of its blossoming the whole 
year—a statement scarcely borne out by facts. 
By old English poets these plants are called 
“golds;” the name of the Virgin Mary was a 
very frequent addition in the middle ages to 
anything useful or beautiful, and so in course 
of time this flower became known as the mary- 
yold. 
Why so dazzling a bloom should have become 
the emblem of grief it is difficult to say, but in 
many lands it is regarded as such. Although 
alone, however, the marygold expresses grief, 
by a judicious admixture with other fiow’ers its 
moaning may be greatly varied. For instance, 
