200 FLORA AND THALIA. 



THE PRIMROSE, 



Ask me why I send you here 



This sweet infanta of the year 1 



Ask me why I send to you 



I'his Primrose all bepearled with dew ] 



I will whisper in your ears, 



The sweets of love are washed with tears. 



Ask me why this flower does shew, 

 So yellow-green, and sickly too ] 

 Ask me why the stalk is weak, 

 And bending, yet it doth not break 1 

 I will answer, these discover. 

 What fainting hopes are in a lover. 



HERBICK. 



BRING FLOWERS. 



Bri>^g flowers, young flowers, for the festal board, 



To wreath the cup ere the wine is poured ; 



Bring flowers ! they are springing in wood and vale. 



Their breath floats out on the southern gale ; 



And the touch of the sunbeam hath waked the rose. 



To deck the hall where the bright wine flows. 



