46 
THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
Oh, fated doom that I fulfil ! 
Oh, fateful flower beside the rill! 
The daffodil, the daffodil !’ ” 
Chaucer alludes to this story, and Shakspeare intro¬ 
duces it into his “ Winter’s Tale 
‘ ‘ O Proserpina, 
For the flowers now that, frighted, thou lett’st fall 
From Dis’s waggon : daffodils 
That come before the swallow dares, and take 
The winds of March with beauty.” 
DAFFODILS. 
HERRICK. 
Fair daffodils, we weep to see 
Ye haste away so soon ; 
As yet the early-rising sun 
Has not attained his noon : 
Stay, stay, 
Until the hastening day 
Has run 
But to the even-song, 
And, having prayed together, we 
Will go with ye along. 
We have short time to stay as ye, 
We have as fleet a Spring, 
As quick a growth to meet decay 
As you or anything : 
We die 
As your hours do, and dry 
Away 
