Daffy-Down-Dilly

Did you know? The earliest known reference to Daffodils can be found in the 6th century AD writings of the Prophet Mohammed.

Daffodils symbolise rebirth, new beginnings and friendship and are synonymous with spring. Their botanic name is narcissus, sometimes they are called jonquils and because of their long association with Lent, they are also known in England as the “Lent Lily.”

Folklore connects the daffodil to not only a sign of winter’s end but it is a lucky emblem of future prosperity throughout the world. In Wales, it is said that if you spot the first daffodil of the season you will have 12 months filled with wealth, and Chinese legend says that if a daffodil bulb is forced to bloom during the New Year, it will bring good luck to your home.

The daffodil is the March birth flower and the 10th wedding anniversary flower. A gift of daffodils is said to ensure happiness, but they should always be given in a bunch as it is thought to be unlucky and will bring misfortune if given as a single bloom.

Source: http://www.teleflora.com/about-flowers/daffodil.asp

From The British cyclopaedia of the arts, sciences, history, geography, literature, natural history and biography 1838 By Charles F Partington

“DAFFODIL, is the ordinary name of a very common British plant, which is one of the earliest ornaments of our cottage gardens, as well as of many of our woods and meadows. It is one of the most conspicuous species of the Narcissus family, and of course ranks among the Amaryllideæ. Many varieties of the daffodil are in cultivation, differing from each other chiefly in bulk, and in the structure of the flower. But no change has yet taken place in the original colour of the flower, it still retaining its deep yellow hue.”

Daffy-Down-Dilly from Flower Stories by Lenore E. Mulets 1903
Poor little Daffy-down-dilly!
She slept with her head on a rose,
When a sly moth-miller kissed her,
And left some dust on her nose.

Poor little Daffy-down-dilly!
She woke when the clock struck ten,
And hurried away to the fairy queen’s ball,
Down in the shadowy glen.

Poor little Daffy-down-dilly!
Right dainty was she, and fair,
In her bodice of yellow satin,
And petticoat green and rare.

But to look in her dew-drop mirror,
She quite forgot when she rose,
And into the queen’s high presence
Tripped with a spot on her nose.

Then the little knight who loved her –
O, he wished that he were dead:
And the queen’s maid began to titter,
And tossed her saucy head.

And up from her throne so stately,
The wee queen rose in her power,
Just waved her light wand o’er her,
And she changed into a flower.

Poor little Daffy-down-dilly!
Now in silver spring-time hours,
She wakes in the sunny meadows,
She lives with other flowers.

Her beautiful yellow bodice,
With green skirts wears she still;
And the children seek and love her,
But they call her daffodil.

Photographs by Carol Strong