Ode to the Gowdspink

FRAE fields where Spring her sweets has blawn
Wi' caller verdure owre the lawn,
The gowdspink comes in new attire,
The brawest 'mang the whistling choir,
That ere the sun can clear his een,
Wi' glib notes sain the simmer's green.

Sure, Nature berried mony a tree,
For spraings and bonnie spats to thee ;
Nae mair the rainbow can impart
Sic glowin' ferlies o' her art,
Whase pencil wrought its freaks at will
On thee, the sey-piece o' her skill.
Nae mair, through straths in simmer dight,
We seek the rose to bless our sight ;
Or bid the bonny wa'-flowers sprout
On yonder ruin's lofty snout.
Thy shinin' garments far outstrip
The cherries upon Hebe's lip,
And fool the tints that nature chose
To busk and paint the crimson rose.
'Mang men, wae's heart ! we aften find
The brawest dressed want peace o' mind ;
While he that gangs wi' ragged coat
Is weel contentit wi' his lot.
When wand, wi' glewy birdlime set,
To steal far aff your dautit mate,
Blythe wad you change your cleedin' gay
In lieu of lav'rock's sober gray.
In vain through woods you sair may ban
The envious treachery o' man,
That, wi' your gowden glister ta'en,
Still haunts you on the simmer's plain,
And traps you 'mang the sudden fa's
O' winter's dreary dreepin' snaws.
Now steekit frae the gowany field,
Frae ilka fav'rite houff and bield ;
But mergh, alas ! to disengage
Your bonnie buik frae fetterin' cage,
Your freeborn bosom beats in vain
For darlin' liberty again.
In window hung, how aft we see
Thee keek around at warblers free,
That carol saft, and sweetly sing
Wi' a' the blytheness o' the spring !
Like Tantalus they hing you here,
To spy the glories o' the year ;
And though you're at the burnie's brink,
They downa suffer you to drink.
Ah, Liberty ! thou bonny dame,
How wildly wanton is thy stream,
Round whilk the birdies a' rejoice,
And hail you wi' a gratefu' voice !
The gowdspink chatters joyous here,
And courts wi' gleesome sangs his peer ;
The mavis, frae the new-bloom'd thorn,
Begins his lauds at ear'est morn ;
And herd louns, loupin' owre the grass,
Need far less fleetchin' till their lass,
Than paughty damsels bred at courts,
Wha thraw their mou's, and tak the dorts :
But, reft of thee, fient flee we care
For a' that life ahint can spare.

The gowdspink, that sae lang has kenn'd
Thy happy sweets (his wonted friend),
Her sad confinement ill can brook
In some dark chamber's dowie nook.
Though Mary's hand his neb supplies,
Unkenn'd to hunger's painfu' cries,
Even beauty canna cheer the heart
Frae life, frae liberty apart :
For now we tyne its wonted lay,
Sae lightsome sweet, sae blythely gay.

Thus, Fortune aft a curse can gie,
To wile us far frae liberty ;
Then tent her syren smiles wha list,
I'll ne'er envy your girnel's grist :
For when fair freedom smiles nae mair,
Care I for life ? Shame fa' the hair ;
A field o'ergrown wi' rankest stubble,
The essence of a paltry bubble !