Wordsworth . 
WHERE,” said a stripling, pointing with much pride, 
Towards a low roof, with green trees half-concealed 
t: Is Mossgiel farm ; and that’s the very field 
Where Burns plough’d up the daisy !” Far and wide 
A plain below stretch’d seaward; while, descried 
Above sea clouds, the peaks of Arran rose; 
And, by that simple notice, the repose 
Of earth, sky, sea and air was vivified. 
Beneath the random field of clod or stone 
Myriads of daisies here shone forth in flower 
Near the lark’s nest, and in their natural hour 
Have passed away ; less happy than the one 
That, by the unwilling ploughshare, died to prove 
The tender charm of poetry and love. 
