nr rs DALMD iT * 
fel THE POETRY OF 

FLDWERS, 
THE PRIMROSE OF THE ROCK. 
BY WORDSWORTH. 
A Rock there is whose lonely frent | 
The passing traveller slights ; 
Yet there the glow-worms hang their lamps, 
Like stars, at various heights ; 
And one coy primrose to that-rock 
The vernal breeze invites. 
1 What hideous warfare hath been waged. 
What kingdoms overthrown, 
Since first I spied that primrose tuft, | xt 
: And mark’d it for my own! 
| A lasting link in nature’s chain 
From highest heaven let down. 

The flowers, still faithful to the stems, 
Their fellowship renew; 
The stems are faithful to the root, 
That worketh out of view; 
And to the rock the root adheres 
In every fibre true. 
? 
Close clings to earth the living rock, 
Though threatening still to fall; 
The earth is constant to her sphere, 
And God upholds thera all: ™ 

