






















THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
THE PRIMROSE. 
Childhood, and also Sadness. 
| 
| v=) 5 K me why I send you here, 
| wy This firstling of the infant year ; 
fa| Ask me why I send to you 
This primrose all bepearl’d with dew ; 
I straight will whisper in your ears, 
|| The sweets of love are wash’d with tears. 

Ask me why this flower doth show 
Fl So yellow, green, and sickly too ; 
I Ask me why the stalk is weak, 




















| i And bending, yet it doth not break ; 
Wi I must tell you, these discover 
| ! | What doubts and fears are in a lover. 
Hh CAREW. 
II Wit 
Mi ane cat 
Wa PER 
alll DATS 
ie \ Innocence. 
il ‘¢ Whose white investments figure innocence.”’ 
Hl SHAKESPEARE 
=| HEN, smitten by the morning ray, 
7si| 1 see thee rise, alert and gay, 
L4| Then, cheerful flower, my spirits play 
With kindred gladness. 







