Ask me why I send you here <br />The firstling of the infant year; <br />Ask me why I send to you <br />This primrose all bepearled with dew: <br />I straight will whisper in your ears, <br />The sweets of love are washed with tears. <br />Ask me why this flower doth show <br />So yellow, green, and sickly too; <br />Ask me why the stalk is weak <br />And bending, yet it doth not break: <br />I must tell you, these discover <br />What doubts and fears are in a lover.<br /><br />Thomas Carew<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-primrose-2/
