The Primrose (Primula vulgaris).
I ever love to gaze upon its form.
Full oft in childhood I’ve the Primrose seen,
Hiding its fragrant head from Borean storm,
In sheltered copse, by side of verdant hill, 5
On where to crystal river whimples still
Through scenes as lovely as the banks of Rhine;
What time the blackbird whistled till the green
Old gnarlêd woods re-echoed back the strain
And I have felt a glory truly mine 10
When I in primrosed walks have loitering been;
For earth seem’d free from every spot or stain
Of Sin and Care, which make the world a Hell,
And demons roam where angels fain would dwell.
George Markham Tweddell
[Sonnets on Trees and Flowers, p. 2.] Also published in Darlington
Times, Apr. 14, 1849. Cooper’s Journal, Apr. 13, 1850. Bury
Miscellany, May, 1855. Middlesbrough News, Apr. 27, 1866. South
Durham and Cleveland Mercury, March 9, 1867. Waikouaita Herald
[New Zealand], June 19, 1867. Barrow Times, May 22, 1869. Voice of
Masonry, Aug., 1882, Northern Weekly Gazette, Mar. 29/97.
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