ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. i 2 I 



TO A MOUNTAIN DAISY, 



ON TURNING IT DOWN WITH A PLOW. 



WEE, modest, crimson-tipped flower, 

 Thou 's met me in an evil hour ; 

 For I maun crush amang the stoure 1 



Thy slender stem : 



To spare thee now is past my power, 

 Thou bonnie gem ! 



Alas, it 's not thy neebor sweet, 

 The bonnie lark, companion meet ! 

 Bending the 'mang the dewy weet, 



Wi' speckled breast, 

 When upward springing, blithe, to greet 



The purpling east. 



Cauld blew the bitter, biting north 

 Upon thy early, humble birth; 

 Yet cheerfully thou glinted* forth, 



Amid the storm ! 

 Scarce reared above the parent earth 



Thy tender form. 



The flaunting flowers our gardens yield, 

 High sheltering woods and wa's maun shield 

 But thou, beneath the random bield 3 



O' clod or stane. 

 Adorns the histie 4 stibble-field, 



Unseen, alane. 



There, in thy scanty mantle clad, 

 Thy snawie bosom sunward spread, 

 Thou lifts thy unassuming head 



In humble guise ; 

 But now the share uptears thy bed, 



And low thou lies ! 



Such is the fate of simple bard, 



On life's rough ocean luckless starr'd ! 



Unskillful he to note the card 



Of prudent lore, 

 Till billows rage, and gales blow hard, 



And whelm him o'er. 



i. Dust. 2. Peeped. 3. Shelter. 4. Dry. 



