T A M D （1 / 2）

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