

PRIMROSE. 
THE EARLY PRIMROSE. 
HENRY KIRKE WHITE. 
Mixp offspring of a dark and sullen sire ! 
Whose modest form, so delicately fine, 
Was nursed in whirling storms, 
And cradled in the winds. 
Thee, when young Spring first questioned Winter’s 
sway ; 
And dared the sturdy blusterer to the fight, 
Thee on this bank he threw, 
To mark his victory. 
In this low vale, the promise of the-year, 
Serene, thou openest to the nipping gale, 
Unnoticed and alone, 
Thy tender elegance. 
So virtue blooms, brought forth amid the storms 
Of chill adversity ; in some lone walk 
Of life she rears her head, 
Obscure and unobserved ;— 
While every bleaching breeze that on her blows, 
Chastens her spotless purity of breast, - 
And hardens her to bear 
Serene, the ills of life. 
——_ 
PRIMROSES. 
KEATS. 
A turt of evening primroses, 
O’er which the mind may hover till it dozes ; 














