
























250 THE POETRY OF FLDWERS, 
THE PRIMROSE OF THE ROCK. 
BY WORDSWORTH. 
A Rock there is whose lonely front 
The passing traveller slights ; 
Yet there the glow-worms hang their Iampas, 
Like stars, at various heights ; 
And one coy primrose to that rock 
The vernal breeze invites. 
What hideous warfare hath been waged 
What kingdoms overthrown, 
Since first I spied that primrose tuft, 
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 stema, 
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 : 

% bloom: 
Her ant 
Here clog 
But air 
The hoary 
The sur 
And to th 
I gave t 
| sang—T, 
Like the 
Revive un 
Than tr 
ur verna 
ls God’ 
That love 
For sorr 
Vet hope 
Their m 
And turn’ 
To type 
Sn-blighte 
The rea: 
hom our. 
Shall rig 
And in ete 
Our thre 
