DAISY. 



Sweet Flower! for by that name at last, 

 When all my reveries are past, 

 I call thee, and to that cleave fast. 



Sweet silent creature ! 

 That breath'st with me in sun and air, 

 Do thou, as thou art wont, repair 

 My heart with gladness, and a share 



Of thy meek nature ! 



TO A MOUNTAIN DAISY. 



ON TURNING ONE DOWN WITH THE PLOUGH. 

 BURNS. 



Wee, modest, crimson-tipped flower, 

 Thou'st met me in an evil hour, 

 For I must crush among the stoure 



Thy slender stem : 

 To spare thee now is past my power, 



Thou bonny gem I 



Alas! 'tis not thy neighbour sweet, 

 The bonny lark, companion meet. 

 Bending thee 'mong the dewy wheat, 



With speckled breast — 

 When upward springing, blithe to greet 



The purpling east. 



Cold blew the bitter-biting north 

 Upon thy early humble birth ; 



