ODES. 



TO AN EARLY PRIMROSE. 

 Written at the Age oj Thirteen. 



Mild offspring of a dark and sullen sire ! 

 Whose modest form, so delicately fine, 



Was nursed in whirling storms 



And cradled in the winds. 



Thee, when young Spring first question'd Winter's swa/, 

 And dared the sturdy blusterer to the fight, 



Thee on this bank he threw 



To mark his victory. 



In this low vale, the promise of the year, 

 Serene, thou openest to the nipping gale, 



Unnoticed and alone, 



Thy tender elegance. 



So Virtue blooms, brought forth amid the storms 

 Of chill adversity, in some lone walk 



Of life, she rears her head 



Obscure and unobserved ; 



While every bleaching breeze that on her blows, 

 Chastens her spotless purity of breast, 



And hardens her to bear 



Serene the ills of life. 



