to a ounta daisy,
on turng down with the plough, april, 1786
wee, odest crin-tipped flow&039;r,
thou&039;s t an evil hour;
for i aun crh aang the stoure
thy slender ste:
to spare thee now is past y pow&039;r,
thou bonie
as! it&039;s no thy neibor sweet,
the bonie rk, panion et,
bendg thee &039;ang the dewy weet,
wi&039; spreckl&039;d breast!
when uard-sprgg, blythe, to greet
the purplg east
cauld blew the bitter-bitg north
upon thy early, huble birth;
yet cheerfully thou glted forth
aid the stor,
scarce rear&039;d above the parent-earth
thy tender for
the funtg flow&039;rs our gardens yield,
high shelt&039;rg woods and wa&039;s aun shield;
but thou, beneath the rando bield
o&039; clod or stane,
adorns the histie stibble field,
unseen, ane
there, thy scanty antle cd,
thy snawie bo sun-ward spread,
thou lifts thy unassug head
huble guise;
but now the share uptears thy bed,
and low thou lies!
such is the fate of artless aid,
sweet flow&039;ret of the rural shade!
by love&039;s siplicity betray&039;d,
and guileless trt;
till she, like thee, all il&039;d, is id
low i&039; the dt
such is the fate of siple bard,
on life&039;s rough ocean ckless starr&039;d!
unskilful he to note the card
of prudent lore,
till billows ra, and gales blow hard,
and whel hi o&039;er!
such fate to sufferg worth is giv&039;n,
who long with wants and woes has striv&039;n,
by huan pride or cunng driv&039;n
to is&039;ry&039;s brk;
till wrench&039;d of ev&039;ry stay but heav&039;n,
he, ru&039;d, sk!
ev&039;n thou who ourn&039;st the daisy&039;s fate,
that fate is the—no distant date;
stern ru&039;s plough-share drives ete,
full
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