PRIMROSE. 
The same .— clare. 
Welcome, pale Primrose ! starting up between* 
Dead matted leaves of ash and oak, that 
strew 
The very lawn, the wood, and spinney 
through, 
Mid creeping moss and ivy’s darker green ; 
How much thy presence beautifies the 
ground ! 
How sweet thy modest, unaffected pride 
Glows on the sunny bank, and wood’s warm 
side. 
And where thy fairy flowers in groups are 
found, 
The school-boy roams enchantedly along, 
Plucking the fairest with a rude delight: 
While the meek shepherd stops his simple song. 
To gaze a moment on the pleasing sight; 
O’erjoy’d to see the flowers that truly bring 
The welcome news of sweet returning Spring- 
The same —anon. 
Terrestrial flower, 
Who risest in the spring, 
And in the sun and shower 
Art blossoming; 
