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271
The Folk-lore of Plants
·
T. F. Thiselton-Dyer
262
Like
the
rose,
many
plants
have
been
extensively
associated
with
sacred
legendary
lore,
a
circumstance
which
frequently
explains
their
origin.
A
pretty
legend,
for
instance,
tells
us
how
an
angel
was
sent
to
console
Eve
when
mourning
over
the
barren
earth.
Now,
no
flower
grew
in
Eden,
and
the
driving
snow
kept
falling
to
form
a
pall
for
earth's
untimely
funeral
after
the
fall
of
man.
But
as
the
angel
spoke,
he
caught
a
flake
of
falling
snow,
breathed
on
it,
and
bade
it
take
a
form,
and
bud
and
blow.
Ere
it
reached
the
ground
it
had
turned
into
a
beautiful
flower,
which
Eve
prized
more
than
all
the
other
fair
plants
in
Paradise;
for
the
angel
said
to
her:--
"This
is
an
earnest,
Eve,
to
thee,
That
sun
and
summer
soon
shall
be."
The
angel's
mission
ended,
he
departed,
but
where
he
had
stood
a
ring
of
snowdrops
formed
a
lovely
posy.
This
legend
reminds
us
of
one
told
by
the
poet
Shiraz,
respecting
the
origin
of
the
forget-me-not:--"It
was
in
the
golden
morning
of
the
early
world,
when
an
angel
sat
weeping
outside
the
closed
gates
of
Eden.
He
had
fallen
from
his
high
estate
through
loving
a
daughter
of
earth,
nor
was
he
permitted
to
enter
again
until
she
whom
he
loved
had
planted
the
flowers
of
the
forget-me-not
in
every
corner
of
the
world.
He
returned
to
earth
and
assisted
her,
and
they
went
hand
in
hand
over
the
world
planting
the
forget-me-not.
When
their
task
was
ended,
they
entered
Paradise
together;
for
the
fair
woman,
without
tasting
the
bitterness
of
death,
became
immortal
like
the
angel,
whose
love
her
beauty
had
won,
when
she
sat
by
the
river
twining
the
forget-me-not
in
her
hair."
This
is
a
more
poetic
legend
than
the
familiar
one
given
in
Mill's
"History
of
Chivalry,"
which
tells
how
the
lover,
when
trying
to
pick
some
blossoms
of
the
myosotis
for
his
lady-love,
was
drowned,
his
last
words
as
he
threw
the
flowers
on
the
bank
being
"Forget
me
not."
Another
legend,
already
noticed,
would
associate
it
with
the
magic
spring-wort,
which
revealed
treasure-caves
hidden
in
the
mountains.
The
traveller
enters
such
an
opening,
but
after
filling
his
pockets
with
gold,
pays
no
heed
to
the
fairy's
voice,
"Forget
not
the
best,"
i.e.,
the
spring-wort,
and
is
severed
in
twain
by
the
mountain
clashing
together.
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