nt (_i.e._,
_prime printemps_), and even in the seventeenth century, Cole says of
ligustrum, "This herbe is called Primrose." When the name was fixed to
our present plant I cannot say, but certainly before Shakespeare's time,
though probably not long before. It is rather remarkable that the
flower, which we now so much admire, seems to have been very much
overlooked by the writers before Shakespeare. In the very old
vocabularies it does not at all appear by its present Latin name,
Primula vulgaris, but that is perhaps not to be wondered at, as nearly
all the old botanists applied that name to the Daisy. But neither is it
much noticed by any English name. I can only find it in two of the
vocabularies. In an English Vocabulary of the fourteenth century is "Haec
pimpinella, A{e} primerolle," but it is very doubtful if this can be our
Primrose, as the Pimpernel of old writers was the Burnet. Gower
mentions it as the flower of the star Canis Minor--

"His stone and herbe as saith the scole
Ben Achates and Primerole."

_Conf. Aman._ lib. sept. (3, 130. Paulli).

And in the treatise of Walter de Biblesworth (13th century) is--

"Primerole et primeveyre (cousloppe)
Sur tere aperunt en tems de veyre."

I should think there is no doubt this is our Primrose. Then we have
Chaucer's description of a fine lady--

"Hir schos were laced on hir legges hyghe
Sche was a Primerole, a piggesneyghe
For any lord have liggyng in his bedde,
Or yet for any gode yeman to wedde."

_The Milleres Tale._

I have dwelt longer than usual on the name of this flower, because it
gives us an excellent example of how much literary interest may be found
even in the names of our common English plants.

But it is time to come from the name to the flower. The English Primrose
is one of a large family of more than fifty species, represented in
England by the Primrose, the Oxlip, the Cowslip, and the Bird's-eye
Primrose of the North of England and Scotland. All the members of the
family, whether British or exotic, are noted for the simple beauty of
their flowers, but in this special character there is none that
surpasses our own. "It is the very flower of delicacy and refinement;
not that it shrinks from our notice, for few plants are more easily
seen, coming as it does when there is a dearth of flowers, when the
first birds are singing, an