188 
THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
EMBLEMS OF FLOWERS 
BY BURNS. 
Adown winding Nith I did wander, 
To mark the sweet flowers as they spring* 
Adown winding Nith I did wander, 
Of Phillis to muse and to sing. 
The daisy amused my fond fancy, 
So artless, so simple, so wild; 
Thou emblem, said I, o’ my Phillis. 
For she is simplicity’s child. 
The rose-hud’s the blush o’ my cnarnier, 
Her sweet balmy lip when ’tis prest: 
How fair and how pure is the lily, 
But fairer and purer her breast. 
Ton knot of gay flowers in the arbout, 
They ne’er wi’ my Phillis can vie: 
Her breath is the breath of the woodbine, 
Its dew-drop o’ diamond her eye. 
Her voice is the song of the morning 
That wakes through the green-spreading gro' 
When Phoebus peeps over the mountains, 
On music, and pleasure, and love. 
