Poem this time

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A rose bud by my early walk A rose bud by my early walk, Adown a corn -inclosed bawk Sae geantly bent its thorny stalk, All on a dewy morning, Ere twice the shades o’ dawn are fled, In a’ its crimson glory spread, And drooping rich the dewy head , It scents the early morning Within the bush her covert nest A little linnet fondly prest; The dew sat chilly on her breast, Sae early in the morning . She soon shall see her tender brood, The pride , the pleasure o’ the wood , Amang the freash green leaves bedew’d, Awake the early morning So thou, dear bird, young jeany fair, On trembling string or vocal air, Shall sweetly pay the tender care That tents thy early morning. So thou, sweeet rose -bud, young and gay, Shall beauteous blaze upon the day, and bless the parent’s evening ray that watch’d thy early morning.

By: Robert Burns