Cowslip- The Language of Flowers

Cowslip

A very bright, beautiful yellow flower.

Winning Grace.

She grew in love. Around her infant home
Life hung it summer hues, and very fair
Was this wild earth to her. She learned to roam
In artless radiance where the woodland air
Shower trembling sweetness on the glancing streams.
And stole its hues from sunset's golden beams.

She twined the orchis in her hazel hair,
And stole the violets from the brook-side doll:
The wilding race was her peculiar care,
Her dearest music was the foxglove's bell,
When the wild bee with his transparent wings
Stirs the sweet air, and makes believe he sings.