PRIMROSE. 51 



principally be attributed to the remarks of the 

 poets, as 



Bring the rathe Primrose that forsaken dies. 



Lycidas. 

 Sweet as the Primrose peeps beneath the thorn. 



She is the rose, the glory of the day, 



And mine the Primrose in the lowly shade : 



Mine, oh ! not mine ; amisse I mine did say : 



Not mine, but his, which mine awhile her made ; 



Mine to be his, with him to be for aye. 



O that so fair a flowre so soon should fade, 



And through untimely tempest fall away ! 



She fell away in her first age's spring, 



"Whilst yet her leafe was greene, and fresh her rinde, 



And whilst her branch fair blossomes foorth did bring, 



For age to dye is right, but youth is wrong ; 



She fell away like fruit blown with winde, 



Weep, Shepheard ! weep, to make my undersong. 



Spenser. 

 Shakspeare makes it a funeral flower for youth 



"With fairest flowers, 

 "Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele, 

 I'll sweeten thy sad grave : Thou shalt not lack 

 The flower that's like thy face, pale Primrose. 



CymleUnc. 



Although every lover of Nature hails with plea- 

 sure the first appearance of the pale Primrose, 

 seated on the hazel bank, surrounded by its puck- 

 ered leaves, yet it fails to give those joyous sensa- 

 tions which arise at the first sight of the meadow 

 " gay with gaudy Cowslips drest." The latter 

 flower as forcibly brings to mind the frolics of our 



D 2 



