Thus I set my printless feet O'er the cowslip's velvet head, That bends not as I tread. — John Milton Copy Share Image
When May, with cowslip-braided locks, Walks through the land in green attire. And burns in meadow-grass the phlox His torch of purple… — Bayard Taylor Copy Share Image
Daughter of heaven and earth, coy Spring, With sudden passion languishing, Teaching barren moors to smile, Painting pictures mile on mile, Holds… — Ralph Waldo Emerson Copy Share Image
“Very few things escape my attention in the springlands—even the plucking of a flower.” I looked at the cowslip guiltily.” — Margaret Rogerson Copy Share Image
