 | Vigil and vision |  |
PRIMULA VERIS.
1.
I do remember whiles, when I have beenWalking, where March went roaring to his end,
In woods, with heart whose sadness did extend
To all I met and looked on, to have seen
A sudden primrose in the treefoot-green,
The which so bright a face on me did bend,
Meseemed that I had found some long-lost friend,
Whose aspect did away my Winter's spleen.
There, in the rotting leaves, at the tree-foot,
Its wax-pure whorl of emerald pale it spread
And in corruption delving with its root,
The leaden heavens outfaced with lifted head
And infantile frank eyes, that seemed to me
The primal type of taintless purity.
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2.
Sweet soul of the resuscitated earth,That of the Springtide, tarrying yet afar,
In the bare wood-ways, with thy pure pale star,
Tellest and lightenest Life's night of dearth,
Few things as thou, meseems, are worship-worth,
That, when all creatures else with many a scar
And wound of Winter mute and stricken are,
Alone bear'st witness of the world's rebirth.
Soon shall the hyacinth outblazon thee
And daffodil and wood-anemone
Broider the ways with wealthier blossoming,
Cowslips and violets more perfume bring;
Yet, primrose, still belovéd shalt thou be
O'er all, that art the morning-star of Spring.
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