









THE POETRY OF FLC WERS. 
EMBLEMS OF FLOWERS 
BY BURNS. 
Apown winding Nith I did wander, 
Tomark 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, 0’ my Phill. 
For she is simplicity’s child. 
The rose-bud’s the blush 0’ my cnarmer, 
Her sweet balmy lip when ’tis prest: 
How fair and how pure is the lily, 
But fairer and purer her breast. 
Yon knot of gay flowers in the arbour, 
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 grove 
When Phoebus peeps over the mountains, 
On music, and pleasure, and love. 



























ThE POE 
unghow frat 
thom of fi 
vonlhin the 
onsh wrth 
HE OR 
BY 
bine me on 
uuny cheek, 
wh, with 
tad, Mod 
wih th gtoy 
todousT 
"ae there 
othe dee 
Lis fon 
i late! 
ily liht 
Theat, 
