Scarce reared above the parent-earth
Thy tender form.
The flaunting flowers our gardens yield,
High sheltering woods and wa’s maun shield, 20
But thou, beneath the random bield
O’ clod, or stane,
Adorns the histie stubble-field,
Unseen, alane.
There, in thy scanty mantle clad, 25
Thy snawie bosom sunward spread,