ON FINDING AN EARLY COWSLIP. 
ANON. 
It is the same ! it is the very scent •— 
That bland, yet luscious, meadow-breathing sweet 
Which I remember when my childish feet, 
With a new life’s rejoicing spirit, went 
Through the deep grass with wild flow’rs richly blent, 
That smiled to high Heav’n from their verdant seat, 
But it brings not to thee such joy complete: 
Thou canst not see, as I do, how we spent 
In blessedness, in sunshine, and in flowers, 
The beautiful noon; and then, how, seated round 
The odorous pile, upon the shaded ground, 
A boyish group — we laugh’d away the hours, 
Plucking the yellow blooms for future wine, 
While o’er us play’d a mother’s smile divine. 
COWSLIPS. 
HO WITT. 
On! fragrant dwellers of the lea, 
When first the wild wood rings 
With each sound of vernal minstrelsy, 
When fresh the green grass springs! 
What can the blessed Spring restore 
More gladdening than your charms ? 
Bringing the memory once more 
Of lovely fields and farms! 
