49 
to behold him, “kneeling alway, till it unclosed was ; ” and at 
sunset, when its leaves were again folded, we see him hastening 
home, that he may rise early and watch it again expand. A 
beautiful portrait of a gentle, happy, and truly poetic mind 
may be found in Chaucer’s passages descriptive of his own 
habits and fancies, and yet, comparatively, his works are 
known to but a small portion of readers, and are but little 
appreciated, chiefly for want of the attention at first 
required to understand the varying accents, and form the 
coiTect rhythm in reading them. His poems are so replete 
with beauties, and so thoroughly English in spirit, that they 
must, ere long, occupy that place among familiar favourites 
which they have so long in vain deserved. 
Shakspeare very gracefully introduces the daisy in tlie 
description of Lucrece sleeping. 
Without the bed her other fair hand was, 
On the green coverlet; whose perfect white 
Sliowed like an April daisy on the grass. 
Her eyes, like marigolds, had sheathed their light, 
And, canopied in darkness, sweetly lay. 
Till they might open to adorn the day. 
To our flower-loving Herrick I must be indebted for the last 
specimen of daisy eulogy which I shall quote here; it is a 
sweet melodious little fancy, and, as is usual in such compo¬ 
sitions of his day, conveys a very elegant compliment to his 
mistress. 
H 
