. A selection of posthumous poems. ES TO THE EARLY PRIMROSE. k Pale primrose ! emblem of the opening year, Whose modest look proclaims approaching spring; Thy yellow hues mid velvet leaves appear,Thy fragrance floating on the Zephyrs wing. How welcome to the eye, the opening flower,—How welcome to the ear, the song of birds,— How welcome is the soft refreshing shower,The hum of bees, and voice of lowing herds. Ft •J J i1 11 Sweet primrose ! modest flower, in which we trace The early earnest of heavens bounteous store; p Soon shall the cowslip with its sister grace, n Peep through the grass and
. A selection of posthumous poems. ES TO THE EARLY PRIMROSE. k Pale primrose ! emblem of the opening year, Whose modest look proclaims approaching spring; Thy yellow hues mid velvet leaves appear,Thy fragrance floating on the Zephyrs wing. How welcome to the eye, the opening flower,—How welcome to the ear, the song of birds,— How welcome is the soft refreshing shower,The hum of bees, and voice of lowing herds. Ft •J J i1 11 Sweet primrose ! modest flower, in which we trace The early earnest of heavens bounteous store; p Soon shall the cowslip with its sister grace, n Peep through the grass and deck the meadows oer. fj f In hope expectant, on untiring wing, •• I ve sped oer winters dark and cheerless waste, jS With longing eye to hail returning spring, :• And once again its sweets luxurious taste. g Hail! my sweet primrose, like the Virgin, pure, ffl With all the blooming charms of youthful loves, £ Thy coy and modest blush my heart allures, U And the still depths of my affection moves. n > ! 4 11 i >. ODE TO THE MOON. Thou pensive moon ! Sweet Empress of the night,Whose charms reflected on the mirrored deep In quivering motions, fix our ravished sight,While oer the vaulted arch thy glories sweep. Oft in the silent night I ?ve felt thy charms,And gazed upon the beauties of thy face, While dreaming mortals, cradled in sleeps arms,Knew not the grandeur of thy midnight race. Oft have I talked to thee, and told my woes,While silence deep, pervaded earthly things. The feeling, how sublime ! that overflows,When sable night around her shadow flings. 13 I t r r ^5^?^^p^V5pv^v^p^v^v^t * ODE TO THE MOON 1 Oft have I wandered on the lonely field, And viewed thee rising oer the mountain wild, Bearing aloft in air thy burnished shield, With clouds in frowning splendour round thee piled, Oft have I viewed thee in the tranquil lake ; And* seen reflected on the ocean deepThy lurid radiance, or thy quivring shake,— Or silently upon the waters sleep. Oft from the
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