A ROSE-BUD by my early walk, <br />Adown a corn-enclosed bawk, <br />Sae gently bent its thorny stalk, <br />All on a dewy morning. <br />Ere twice the shades o' dawn are fled, <br />In a' its crimson glory spread, <br />And drooping rich the dewy head, <br />It scents the early morning. <br /> <br /> <br />Within the bush her covert nest <br />A little linnet fondly prest; <br />The dew sat chilly on her breast, <br />Sae early in the morning. <br />She soon shall see her tender brood, <br />The pride, the pleasure o' the wood, <br />Amang the fresh green leaves bedew'd, <br />Awake the early morning. <br /> <br /> <br />So thou, dear bird, young Jeany fair, <br />On trembling string or vocal air, <br />Shall sweetly pay the tender care <br />That tents thy early morning. <br />So thou, sweet Rose-bud, young and gay, <br />Shalt beauteous blaze upon the day, <br />And bless the parent's evening ray <br />That watch'd thy early morning.<br /><br />Robert Burns<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-rose-bud-by-my-early-walk/
