PRIMROSE. 
79 
No haughty flower shall shine in gaudy gloss, 
But azure violets mix their buds with thine. 
Far, far away, each keener wind shall fly, 
Each threatening tempest of the early year I 
Thy fostering gale shall be the lover’s sigh ! 
The dew that gems thy bud the lover’s tear! 
And ere thou diest, pale flower, thou’lt gain 
the praise 
To have soothed the bard, and to have in¬ 
spired his lays. 
The same. —mayne. 
By murmuring Nith, my native stream, 
I’ve hailed thee with the morning beam, 
Wooed thee among the Falls of Clyde— 
On Leven’s banks—on Kelvin side ! 
And now, on Hanwell’s flowery plain, 
I welcome thy return again— 
At Ilanwell, where romantic views, 
And sylvan scenes, invite the Muse ; 
And where, lest erring Man should stray, 
Truth’s blameless Teacher leads the way ! 
Lorn tenant of the peaceful glade. 
Emblem of Virtue in the shade, 
Hearing thy head to brave the storm 
That would thine innocence deform! 
ii 2 
