This flower-like shape seems to belong to one sort of a wild environment (like the thousand surronding voices of Nature, in the poem), that turns it into a wild flower, I guess.
O bloom! all joy is thine,
All loves around thee shine;
The thousand hearts of Nature throb for thee,
Her thousand voices praise thee tenderly.
O bloom of purest glory,
Flower of love's gentlest story,
Forever keep thy petals fresh and fair,
Forever send thy sweetness down the air!
Maurice Thompson, "To a wild flower".