





198 LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
MEADOW SAFFRON. 
MY BEST DAYS ARE PAST. 
Wuen the leaves begin to fall from the trees, 
a flower resembling the crocus springs up amidst 
the grass of the damp meadows : but, instead of 
being, like the crocus, the harbinger of joy and 
hope, it proclaims to all Nature that the bright 
days of summer are over. This flower is the 
Meadow Saffron, or Colchicum autumnale, sup- 
posed to be so named from Colchis, in Asia, 
where it is said to grow in abundance. 
According to fabulous history, this autumnal 
flower owes its origin to some drops of the 
magic liquor, prepared by Medea to restore the 
aged ison to the bloom and vigour of youth, 
which were spilt in the fields. 
The foaming juices now the brink o’erswell ; 
The barren heath, where’er the liquor fell, 
Sprang out with vernal grass, and all the pride 
Of blooming May. 
TATE’s OVID. 
Se © een I Ree ee A maa 
oiiinenad oo itera 
Lager 

NDELMES ¢ 
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‘very af 
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