Among some of the ordinary flowers in use for love-divination may be mentioned the poppy, with its “prophetic leaf,” and the old-fashioned “bachelor’s buttons,” which was credited with possessing some magical effect upon the fortunes of lovers.  Hence its blossoms were carried in the pocket, success in love being indicated in proportion as they lost or retained their freshness.  Browne alludes to the primrose, which “maidens as a true-love in their bosoms place;” and in the North of England the kemps or spikes of the ribwort plantain are used as love-charms.  The mode of procedure as practised in Northamptonshire is thus picturesquely given by Clare in his “Shepherd’s Calendar:”: 

  “Or trying simple charms and spells,
  Which rural superstition tells,
  They pull the little blossom threads
  From out the knotweed’s button heads,
  And put the husk, with many a smile,
  In their white bosom for a while;

  Then, if they guess aright the swain
  Their love’s sweet fancies try to gain,
  ’Tis said that ere it lies an hour,
  ’Twill blossom with a second flower,
  And from the bosom’s handkerchief
  Bloom as it ne’er had lost a leaf.”

Then there are the downy thistle-heads, which the rustic maiden names after her lovers, in connection with which there are many old rhymes.  Beans have not lost their popularity; and the leaves of the laurel still reveal the hidden fortune, having been also burnt in olden times by girls to win back their errant lovers.

The garden scene in “Faust” is a well-known illustration of the employment of the centaury or bluebottle for testing the faith of lovers, for Margaret selects it as the floral indication whence she may learn the truth respecting Faust: 

  “And that scarlet poppies around like a bower,
  The maiden found her mystic flower. 
  ’Now, gentle flower, I pray thee tell
  If my love loves, and loves me well;
  So may the fall of the morning dew
  Keep the sun from fading thy tender blue;
  Now I remember the leaves for my lot—­
  He loves me not—­he loves me—­he loves me not—­
  He loves me!  Yes, the last leaf—­yes! 
  I’ll pluck thee not for that last sweet guess;
  He loves me!’ ‘Yes,’ a dear voice sighed;
  And her lover stands by Margaret’s side.”

Another mode of love-divination formerly much practised among the lower orders was known as “peascod-wooing.”  The cook, when shelling green peas, would, if she chanced to find a pod having nine, lay it on the lintel of the kitchen-door, when the first man who happened to enter was believed to be her future sweetheart; an allusion to which is thus given by Gay: 

  “As peascod once I pluck’d, I chanced to see
  One that was closely fill’d with three times three,
  Which, when I cropp’d, I safely home couvey’d,
  And o’er the door the spell in secret laid. 
  The latch mov’d up, when who should first come in,
  But, in his proper person, Lublerkin.”