Sonnet: The Primrose
The Primrose
Sweet primrose peeping in the hazel copse
Beneath the maple roots of grass green moss
Where hermit woodman at his labour stops
Or may be peeping by a clump of gorse
Its sulphur bunches flower with brunny eye
Sweet primrose peeping in the hazel copse
Beneath the maple roots of grass green moss
Where hermit woodman at his labour stops
Or may be peeping by a clump of gorse
Its sulphur bunches flower with brunny eye
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