88 
THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
no other defence, and seem to guess that this tree is 
destined to protect them. 
YEW (Taxus baccata). Sadness. 
The Greeks, affected, like us, by the sad aspect of this 
tree, imagined that the unhappy Smilax, who saw her 
love despised by the young Crocus, was imprisoned in 
the bark of a yew. Its black, gloomy foliage, and ugly 
form, seem to warn us against reposing under it. It is 
said that its juice is poisonous to horses and asses, and 
that if one sleeps under a yew tree, the head grows 
heavy, and suffers violent pain. Our ancestors liked to 
see it in their cemeteries. Its wood was used for bows, 
lances, and cross-bows. In Dutch gardens one may still 
see yews clipped into fantastic forms, which recall the 
masterpieces of Le Notre and La Quintinie. 
FIELD DAISY (Beilis perennis). I will think of it. 
“ Si douce est la marguerite.” 
Chaucer asserts that Alceste, a fair queen, who sacri¬ 
ficed her own life to preserve her husband’s, was trans¬ 
formed into a daisy. What poet has not written of the 
daisy? But one stands preeminent. Few will disagree 
with Mr. Thomas Miller, that the daisy ought to be known 
as “ Chaucer’s flower.” lie all but worshipped it. 
“ Love I most these floures white and rede, 
Such that were callen Daisies in our town; 
