 | Teresa and Other Poems |  |
51
THE PRIMROSE AND THE ROCK
Primrose, to this bare rock
So closely clinging,
Fear'st thou the North's keen shock
And stormy singing?
So closely clinging,
Fear'st thou the North's keen shock
And stormy singing?
Or is it love, not fear,
(Sweet flower, I knew it)
Holds thee heart-rooted here?—
Thou dost not rue it.
(Sweet flower, I knew it)
Holds thee heart-rooted here?—
Thou dost not rue it.
Cold though his flinty arms,
Boon warmth they yield thee:
E'en his uncouthness charms,
Serving to shield thee.
Boon warmth they yield thee:
E'en his uncouthness charms,
Serving to shield thee.
Far will the fancy range,
Love's balm to borrow;
As if a rock could change,
Or thou know sorrow!
Love's balm to borrow;
As if a rock could change,
Or thou know sorrow!
Ah! should our fates agree,
Though widely parted—
Thy love all stone to be,
Mine, stony-hearted!
Though widely parted—
Thy love all stone to be,
Mine, stony-hearted!
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