Hield Flowers, 
Campbell. 
y* field flowers ! the gardens eclipse you, ’tis true, 
Yet wildings of nature, I dote upon. you, 
For ye waft me to Summers of old, 
When the earth teemed around me with fairy delight, 
And when daisies and buttercups gladdened my sight; 
Like treasures of silver and gold. 
I love you for lulling me back into dreams, 
Of the blue Highland mountains and echoing streams, 
And of birchen glades breathing their balm ; 
While the deer was seen glancing in sunshine remote, 
And the deep, mellow crush of the wood-pigeon’s note, 
Made music that sweetened the calm. 
Not a pastoral song has a pleasanter tune 
Than ye speak to my heart, little wildings of June ; 
Of old ruinous castles ye tell, 
Where I thought it delightful your beauties to find, 
When the magic of nature first breathed on my mind, 
And your blossoms were part of the spell. 






