primroses!

                                         Upon this Primrose hill,
                                         Where, if Heav'n would distil
                                         A shower of rain, each several drop might go
                                         To his own primrose, and grow manna so;
                                         And where their form and their infinity
                                         Make a terrestrial Galaxy,
                                         As the small stars do in the sky:

from a poem by John Donne