The
Song of the Primrose Fairy
The
Primrose opens wide in spring;
Her scent
is sweet and good:
It smells
of every happy thing
In sunny land and wood.
In sunny land and wood.
I have not
half the skill to sing
And praise
her as I should.
She's dear
to folk throughout the land;
In her is
nothing mean:
She freely
spreads on every hand
Her petals
pale and clean.
And though
she's neither proud nor grand,
She is the
Country Queen.
by Cicely Mary Barker
by Cicely Mary Barker
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