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Anne E. Bleecker
Yet soon fair Spring shall give another scene. And yellow cowslips gild the level green.
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John Milton
Thus I set my printless feet O'er the cowslip's velvet head, That bends not as I tread.
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Lord Alfred Tennyson
And ye talk together still, In the language wherewith Spring Letters cowslips on the hill.
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Robert Burns
And wild-scatter'd cowslips bedeck the green dale.
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William Shakespeare
The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth The freckled cowslip, burnet, and green clover, Wanting the scythe, all uncorrected, rank, Conceives by idleness, and nothing teems But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burrs, Losing both beauty and utility.
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William Shakespeare
The cowslips tall her pensioners be. In their gold coats spots you see: Those be rubies, fairy favors; In those freckles live their savors.
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