36 
Milton says, “ Bring the rathe primrose that for¬ 
saken dies; ” and Shakspeare, in the “ Winter’s Tale,” 
speaks of 
-“ Pale primroses 
That die unmarried ere they can behold 
Bright Phoebus in his strength.” 
Might I differ from such high authorities, its retiring 
beauty, and its love of “ dingle and bushy dell,” would 
rather lead me to consider it as a fit emblem of modesty 
and humility. 
Fairest of all that’s fair 
In nature’s works are ye, ye wilding flowers, 
When thus, at Spring’s first beck, ye blithely rear 
Your shining heads, to herald her bright hours. 
But that your bloom is brief, 
And here and there on some slight stem a thorn, 
Half hid, perchance, beneath a shrivell’d leaf, 
Tells unto what sad destiny ye ’re born; 
