My Primrose
My sweet primrose with thy open face, And with fringe-like leaves, without a trace Of coarseness, either in flower or stem, Among all my plants thou art the gem. My lovely lilies soon disappear; Thy bloom is constant through all the year; In summer's heat and winter's cold, Undimmed the light of thy floral gold. Or if thy color be pink, or blue, Or white as snow, thou art ever true; My room is bright with thy smiling eyes, And thy fragrance rare I also prize. Thou hast done thy part, my little pet-- Let me keep thy roots forever wet, But guard with care all thy tender leaves And growing crown, which the earth-crust heaves. Thou dost heaven-ward tend, aspiring high, To kiss the stars in the vaulted sky, And they look down from the azure blue, My sweet primrose--they are smiling, too.
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"My sweet primrose with thy open face,..."
"My Primrose" is a quintessential example of Joseph Horatio Chant's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...