CROCUS. 
Again, again, when many springs 
Upon my grave shall shine, 
Here shall you speak of vanished things 
To living hearts of mine. 
THE COWSLIP. 
MISS LANDON. 
THE cowslip, that bending 
With its golden bells, 
Of each glad hour’s ending 
With a sweet chime tells. 
CROCUS. 
( Cheerfulness—Hope.) 
CCORDING to some authors, these bright little 
flowers, which 
‘‘Come before the swallow dares, 
And take the winds of March with beauty,” 
derive their name from a Greek word signifying thread, 
from the fact of their thread or filament being in such 
request for saffron dye. 
The Greeks fabled that Crocu, a beautiful youth, 
was transformed into this flower; as his lady-love, 
Smilax, was at the same time into a yew-tree. 
It is in England consecrated to St. Valentine. 

