This is probably thread creep, but just in case you haven't heard it, here is the great old English song that talks about love entirely in terms of the language of flowers. The DT has the Clancy Bros. version; I've altered it to bring it back to the earlier traditional version, and added the original triumphant last verse...

SEEDS OF LOVE
D A7 D
I sowed the seeds of love
A7
I sowed them in the springtime
D
I gathered them up in the morning so soon
G D G D A7 D
While small birds sweetly sing (2x)

My garden was planted well
With flowers everywhere
But I had not the liberty to choose for myself
The flower that I love most dear, (2x)

The gardener was standing by
And I asked him to choose for me,
He chose for me the violet, the lily and the pink
But of those I refused all three. (2x)

The violet I did not like
Because it blooms too soon
The lily and the pink I really overthink
So I vowed I would wait til June. (2x)

For in June comes the red, red rose
And that is the flower for me
For ofttimes have I plucked that red rosy bush
Til I gained a willow tree. (2x)

Now the willow tree will twist
And the willow tree will twine
I wish I was lying in that young woman's arms
That once held this heart of mine (2x)

So come all ye false young girls,
Do not leave me here to complain,
The grass that has oftentimes been trampled under foot,
Give it time, it will spring up again, (2x)

There is a related American song called "Seeds of Thyme" or "Keep Your Garden Clean," which says "let no one take your thyme..." and more, dealing more simply and directly with the herbal symbolism. I think Jean Ritchie sings this.

Come all you pretty fair maids
That flourish in your prime, prime,
Beware, beware, keep your garden fair,
Let no one steal your thyme, thyme,
Let no one steal your thyme.

My thyme it is all gone away,
I cannot plant anew,
And in the place where my thyme stood
It's all grown up in rue, rue...

Stand up, stand up, you pretty hope,
Stand up and do not die,
And if your lover comes to you
Pick up your wings and fly...

The pink it is a pretty flower,
But it will bud too soon,
I'll have a posy of my own,
I'm sure 'twill wait til June...

In June comes in the primrose flower,
But it is not for me, me,
I will pull up my primrose flower
And plant a willow tree,

Green willow, green willow,
With sorrow mixed among,
To show to all the wide world,
I loved a false young man.

Lydia Vickers used to sing a non-traditional verse that went:

For woman is a branch-ed tree,
And man's a singing wynd,
And from her branches carelessly
He'll take what he can find...

Pretty far above the ground for any common herb, though. And I really do think that's all I know. Sorry if the herbal mind dump got long. Bob