36 
THE PRIMROSE. 
The hawthorn clusters bloom above. 
The primrose hides below, 
And on the lonely passer-by 
A modest glance doth throw ! 
The humble primrose’ b'onnie face 
I meet it everywhere ; 
Where other flowers disdain to bloom. 
It comes and nestles there. 
Like God’s own light, on every place 
In glory it doth fall: 
And where its dwelling-place is made, 
It straightway hallows all! 
Where’er the green-winged linnet sings, 
The primrose bloorneth lone ; 
And love it wins—deep love—from all 
Who gaze its sweetness on. 
On field-paths narrow, and in woods, 
We meet thee near and far. 
Till thou becotnest prized and loved. 
As things familiar are ! 
The stars are sweet at eventide, 
But cold, and far away; 
The clouds are saft in summer time, 
But all unstable they : 
The rose is rich—but pride of place 
Is far too high for me— 
