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Pansies

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The bolt of Cupid fell:
* * * upon a little western flower,
Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound,
And maidens call it love-in-idleness.
Pray, love, remember: and there is pansies, that's for thoughts.
I pray, what flowers are these?
The pansy this,
O, that's for lover's thoughts.

Pansies (Viola Tricolor) are a large group of hybrid plants cultivated as garden flowers. Pansies are derived from Viola species Viola tricolor hybridized with other viola species, these hybrids are referred to as Viola × wittrockiana or less commonly Viola tricolor hortensis. The name "pansy" also appears as part of the common name for other Viola species that are wildflowers in Europe. Some unrelated species, such as the Pansy Monkeyflower, also have "pansy" in their name.

Quotes

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  • The pansy freaked with jet. That is true
  • Pray, love, remember: and there is pansies, that's for thoughts.
  • The bolt of Cupid fell:
    * * * upon a little western flower,
    Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound,
    And maidens call it love-in-idleness.
  • Darker than darkest pansies.
Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922)
[edit]
Quotes reported in Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922), p. 577-78.
  • Pansies for ladies all–(I wis
    That none who wear such brooches miss
    A jewel in the mirror).
  • Pansies? You praise the ones that grow today
    Here in the garden; had you seen the place
    When Sutherland was living!
    Here they grew,
    From blue to deeper blue, in midst of each
    A golden dazzle like a glimmering star,
    Each broader, bigger than a silver crown;
    While here the weaver sat, his labor done,
    Watching his azure pets and rearing them,
    Until they seem'd to know his step and touch,
    And stir beneath his smile like living things:
    The very sunshine loved them, and would lie
    Here happy, coming early, lingering late,
    Because they were so fair.
  • I pray, what flowers are these?
    The pansy this,
    O, that's for lover's thoughts.
  • I send thee pansies while the year is young,
    Yellow as sunshine, purple as the night;
    Flowers of remembrance, ever fondly sung
    By all the chiefest of the Sons of Light;
    And if in recollection lives regret
    For wasted days and dreams that were not true,
    I tell thee that the "pansy freak'd with jet"
    Is still the heart's ease that the poets knew
    Take all the sweetness of a gift unsought,
    And for the pansies send me back a thought.
  • The delicate thought, that cannot find expression,
    For ruder speech too fair,
    That, like thy petals, trembles in possession,
    And scatters on the air.
  • Heart's ease! one could look for half a day
    Upon this flower, and shape in fancy out
    Full twenty different tales of love and sorrow,
    That gave this gentle name.
  • They are all in the lily-bed, cuddled close together-
    Purple, Yellow-cap, and little Baby-blue;
    How they ever got there you must ask the April weather,
    The morning and the evening winds, the sunshine and the dew.
  • The beauteous pansies rise
    In purple, gold, and blue,
    With tints of rainbow hue
    Mocking the sunset skies.
  • Heart's ease or pansy, pleasure or thought,
    Which would the picture give us of these?
    Surely the heart that conceived it sought
    Heart's ease.
  • Pansies in soft April rains
    Fill their stalks with honeyed sap
    Drawn from Earth's prolific lap.
    • Bayard Taylor, Home and Travel. Ariel in the Cloven Pine, line 37.
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