University of Virginia Library


14

AIR by Miss PHILLIPS.

I

The gentle primrose of the vale,
Whose tender bloom rude winds assail,
Droops its meek leaves, and scarce sustains
The night's chill snow and beating rains.

II

'Tis past—the morn returns—sweet spring
Is come—and hills and valleys sing—
But low the gentle Primrose lies;
No more to bloom, no more to rise!