Page:Poems Nealds.djvu/112

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86

For I do wish thee joys as sweet,
As e'er on earth were given;
And trust that thou and I shall meet
As faithful friends in heaven.





SONNET TO A PRIMROSE BLOOMING ON A BARREN BANK EARLY IN THE MONTH OF JANUARY, 1829.
Sweet modest flower, which bloom'st amid the waste
Of winter's desolation, why in such haste
To put thy beauties forth, and rashly brave
The bitter pelting of the furious storm
Which now beats o'er thee?—rather should'st thou crave
A shelter for thy meek and beauteous form,