KARLY YOUTH. 
87 
Sometimes, alas ! we see a lady matured in 
years, whose beauty has been marred by the 
ravages of time, decking herself in the gay 
habiliments of youth; such an one may be 
compared to the primrose in autumn, whose 
untimely presence is reproved in the follow¬ 
ing agreeable sonnet. It is by R. F. Hous- 
man, and was originally published in the 
Athenaeum: — 
The solitary primrose hath come back 
To haunt the green nooks of her happy spring. 
Alas ! it is a melancholy thing, 
Thus to return, and vainly strive to track 
The playmates of our youth ! Whither have fled 
The sweet companions of her vernal hours ? 
The bee, the infant leaves, the golden flowers, 
That heard the cuckoo’s music as he sped 
O’er hill and dale — whither have they departed? 
And the blithe birds — have they too passed away ? 
All save the darkling wren, whose plaintive lay 
Just tells, the hermitess is broken-hearted. 
Go then, pale flower, and hide thy drooping head, 
For all thy spring-time friends are changed, or 
dead. 
