TO A MOUNTAIN DAISY. 
30 
Earth’s cultureless buds, to ray heart ye 
were dear, 
Ere the fever of passion, or ague of fear, 
Had scathed iny existence’s bloom ; 
Once I welcome you more, in life’s passion¬ 
less stage, _ . 
With the visions of youth to revisit my age, 
And I wish you to grow on my tomb. 
—Thomas Campbell. 
TO A MOUNTAIN DAISY, 
ON TURNING ONE DOWN WITH THE PLOUGH 
in afh.il 1786. 
Wee, modest, crimson-tipped flower, 
Thou’s met me in an evil hour; 
For I maun crush amang the stoure 
Thy slender stem: 
To spare thee now is past my power, 
Thou bonnie gem. 
Alas ! it’s no thy neebor sweet, 
The bonnie lark, companion meet, 
Bending thee ’mang the dewy weet! 
Wi’ speckled breast, 
When upward-springing, blithe, to greet 
The purpling east. 
