Classic Poem

I love Primroses wi their mole eyed faces
In Briery borders and wood mossy places
I love pale primroses well
And the wild Blue bell
Primroses I love in the Briery dell

I love it for the sake of young school boys
A school boy once myself I shared their joys
Teasing through thorns
On Aprils dewy morns
I love to hear in woods the young school boys

They scramble for Primrose and Violet
And handfuls mid oak leaves they get
They spy in hedge row prest
With eggs a Black birds nest
They take out the eggs and the poor birds fret

Ye curdled leaves in summers shiny hours
Clustering round the sulphur colored flowers
The Primroses brings
All loveliest things
The meadow is beaded wi dews by spring showers.