There are several species of the Narcissus. The Yellow Narcissus is better known as the Daffodil, and bears much resemblance to the Yellow Lily. The Poetic Narcissus is the largest of the species, and may be distinguished by the crimson border of the very shallow and almost flat cup of the nectary. Shakspeare, in his Winter’s Tale, speaks of Daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and taste The winds of March with beauty. The ancients attributed the origin of the Narcissus to the metamorphosis of a beautiful youth of that name, who, having slighted the love of the nymph Echo, became enamoured of his own image, which he beheld in a fountain, and pined to death in consequence. * * * * * I wandered lonely, as a cloud That floats on high o’er vales and hills When all at once I saw a crowd, A host of golden Daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of the bay; Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced, but they Outdid the sparkling waves in glee; A poet could not but be gay In such a joyful company: I gazed--and gazed--but little thought What wealth to me the show had brought. For oft when on my couch I lie, In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude. And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the Daffodils. _Wordsworth._ * * * * * Nature’s laws must be obeyed, And this is one she strictly laid On every soul which she has made, Down from our earliest mother: Be _self_ your first and greatest care, From all reproach the darling spare, And any blame that she should bear, Put off upon another. _Miss Gould._ * * * * * The pale Narcissus Still feeds upon itself; but, newly blown, The nymphs will pluck it from its tender stalk, And say, “Go, fool, and to thy image talk.” _Lord Thurlow._ LILY.... _Majesty_.