122 
POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
TO PRIMROSES, 
FILLED WITH MORNING DEW. 
Why do ye weep, sweet babes ? can tears 
Speak grief in you. 
Who were but born 
Just as the modest morn 
Teem’d her refreshing dew ? 
Alas ! you have not known that shower 
That mars a flower ; 
Nor felt the unkind 
Breath of a blasting wind ; 
Nor are ye worn with years; 
Or warp’d, as we 
Who think it strange to see 
Such pretty flowers, like to orphans young, 
Speaking by tears before ye have a tongue. 
Speak, whimpering younglings, and make known 
The reason why 
Ye droop, and w6ep; 
Is it for want of sleep, 
Or childish lullaby ? 
Or that ye have not seen as yelr 
The violet ? 
Or brought a kiss 
From that sweetheart to this ? 
No, no ; this sorrow shewn 
