PRIATROSE. 
59 
But yet, raethinks, I love tliee best 
When bees are liurst on whitethorn breast, 
When Spring-tide pours in, sweet and blest, 
And joy and hope come dancing ! 
When music from the feathered throng 
Breaks forth in merry marriage song, 
And mountain streamlets dash along, 
Like molten diamonds glancing ! 
Oh ! pleasant ’tis to scan the page, 
Rich with the theme of bygone age. 
When motley fool and learned sage. 
Brought garlands for the gay pole; 
When laugh and shout came ringing out 
From courtly knight and peasant lout, 
In “Hurrah for merry England, and the raising 
of the Maypole ! ” 
When the good old times had carol rhymes, 
With morris games an$ village chimes ; 
When clown and priest shared cup and feast. 
And the greatest jostled with the least, 
At the “ raising of the Maypole ! ” 
PRIMROSE. 
{Youth.) 
“The primrose I will pu’, the firstling of the year.”—B urns. 
T HE Primrose, emblematical of youth, has received 
innumerable deservedly warm encomiums from 
our poets, but none sweeter than those popular lines of 
Carew : 
Ask me why I send you here 
This firstling of the infant year; 
