And everywhere doth fill a lowly place,
Though fraught with favours for the darkest clod.
'Tis said the primrose is a party flower,
And means coercion, and the coy renown
Of one who toil'd for country and for crown.
This may be so! But, in my Lady's bower,
It means content,—a hope,—a golden hour.
Primroses smile; and daisies cannot frown!