. The language of flowers: or, Floral emblems of thoughts, feelings, and sentiments ... Flower language. THE PRIMROSE. W& period in which Winter, withdrawing herself, sees the hem of her snowy mantle adorned with an embroidery of verdure and of flowers. It is no longer the season for frosts, nor yet are bright days come. Yet how exhilarating are the days when Primrose tufts appear on every bank, and beneath every hedgerow ! How well do we remember the millions which deck the hill-sides, and vales, and hazel copses in the lovely country about Godalming ! there, mingled with the dog-violet a
. The language of flowers: or, Floral emblems of thoughts, feelings, and sentiments ... Flower language. THE PRIMROSE. W& period in which Winter, withdrawing herself, sees the hem of her snowy mantle adorned with an embroidery of verdure and of flowers. It is no longer the season for frosts, nor yet are bright days come. Yet how exhilarating are the days when Primrose tufts appear on every bank, and beneath every hedgerow ! How well do we remember the millions which deck the hill-sides, and vales, and hazel copses in the lovely country about Godalming ! there, mingled with the dog-violet and a vast variety of wild flowers, they are a most fitting emblem of Early Youth, when the spirits are full of freshness, when hope abounds, when the future is all of a rosy tint, when the mind is free from anything like real care or sorrow in most of us ! And in that beautiful spot these lovely flowers have an added charm in the presence •of the nightingale, whose rich and liquid notes fill the air in every direction at the joyous season of Spring; well may Bidlake say to the Primrose,— " Pale visitant of balmy Spring, joy of the new-born year, That bidd'st young hope new plume his wing, soon as thy buds appear. ****** Remote trona towns thy transient life is spent in skies more pure ; The suburb smoke, the seat of strife, thou can'st but ill endure. ****** Thy smiles young innocence invite, what time thy lids awake. In shadowy lane to taste delight, or mazy tangled brake. ****** Ah ! happy breasts ! unknown to pain, I would not spoil your joys. Nor vainly teach you to complain of life's delusive toys. Be jocund still, still sport and smile, nor dream of woe or future guile ; For soon shall ye awakened find The joys of life's sad thorny way, but fading flowerets of a day Cut down by every ; / 167. 1. Please note that these images are extracted from scanned page images that may have been digitally enhanced for readability - coloration and appearance of these
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Keywords: ., bookauthortyasrobe, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1860, bookyear1869
