The Rose of Beauty

Amang the breezy heights and howes
Where winds the Milk sae clearly,
A Rose o' beauty sweetly grows,
A Rose I lo'e most dearly.

Wi' spring's saft rain and simmer's sun
How blooms my Rose divinely!
And lang ere blaws the winter wun',
This breast shall nurse it kin'ly.

May heaven's dew aye freshly weet
My Rose at ilka gloamin',
And oh, may nae unhallow'd feet
Be near it ever roamin'!

I soon shall buy a snug wee cot,
And hae my Rose brought thither;
And then, in that lowne sunny spot,
We'll bloom and fade thegither.