B, 
ur 
Ml 
6 

EARLY YOUTH. 87 
Yet our fine Devon, in a sunny nook, 
Cherish’d this flower ; and when the soft west wind 
Came with its balmy breath and gentle showers, 
With simple grace this first-born of the year 
Waved its pale yellow star: and, lo! for thee 
I plucked the welcome stranger. 
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 following 
agreeable sonnet. It is by R. F. Housman, 
and was originally published in the Athe- 
neum :— 
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. 

