Daffodils

Genus of plants in family Amaryllidaceae

Daffodil is an informal name for the Narcissus, a type of flower.

The daffodil is our doorside queen;
She pushes upward the sword already,
To spot with sunshine the early green.

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  • If thou hast a loaf of bread, sell half and buy the flowers of the narcissus; for bread nourisheth the body, but the flowers of the narcissus the soul.
    • Oswald Crawfurd, Round the Calendar in Portugal (1890), p. 114, quoting Mohammed.
  • When the face of night is fair in the dewy downs
    And the shining daffodil dies.

Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations

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Quotes reported in Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922), p. 155.
  • The daffodil is our doorside queen;
    She pushes upward the sword already,
    To spot with sunshine the early green.
  • What ye have been ye still shall be
    When we are dust the dust among,
    O yellow flowers!
  • Fair daffadils, we weep to see
    You haste away so soone;
    As yet the early-rising sun
    Has not attained its noone.
    * * * * *
    We have short time to stay as you,
    We have as short a spring;
    As quick a growth to meet decay
    As you or anything.
  • When a daffadill I see,
    Hanging down his head t'wards me,
    Guesse I may, what I must be:
    First, I shall decline my head;
    Secondly, I shall be dead:
    Lastly, safely buryed.
  • "O fateful flower beside the rill—
    The Daffodil, the daffodil!"
  • It is daffodil time, so the robins all cry,
    For the sun's a big daffodil up in the sky,
    And when down the midnight the owl calls "to-whoo"!
    Why, then the round moon is a daffodil too;
    Now sheer to the bough-tops the sap starts to climb,
    So, merry my masters, it's daffodil time.
  • O Love-star of the unbeloved March,
    When cold and shrill,
    Forth flows beneath a low, dim-lighted arch
    The wind that beats sharp crag and barren hill,
    And keeps unfilmed the lately torpid rill!
  • Daffy-down-dilly came up in the cold,
    Through the brown mould
    Although the March breeze blew keen on her face,
    Although the white snow lay in many a place.
  • There is a tiny yellow daffodil,
    The butterfly can see it from afar,
    Although one summer evening's dew could fill
    Its little cup twice over, ere the star
    Had called the lazy shepherd to his fold,
    And be no prodigal.
  • A host of golden daffodils;
    Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
    Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
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