ODE TO THE GOWDSPINK. FRAE fields where Spring her sweets has blawn Wi' caller verdure owre the lawn, Sure Nature herried mony a tree, Whase pencil wrought its freaks at will ་་་་་་་་་་་་་་་་་་་་་ ODE TO THE GOWDSPINK. Thy shinin garments far outstrip And fool the tints that Nature chose 'Mang men, wae's-heart! we aften find Whan wand wi' glewy birdlime's set, In vain thro' woods you sair may ban That wi' your gowden glister ta'en, འ་་ ODE TO THE GOWDSPINK. Now steekit frae the gowany field, In window hung, how aft we see Ah, Liberty! thou bonny dame, How wildly wanton is thy stream Round whilk the birdies a' rejoice, An hail you wi' a gratefu' voice. ODE TO THE GOWDSPINK. The Gowdspink chatters joyous here, Begins his lauds at earest morn; And herd lowns loupin o'er the grass, Wha thraw their mou's, and tak the dorts; For a' that life ahint can spare. The Gowdspink, that sae lang has kend Sae lightsome, sweet, sae blythly gay ODE TO THE GOWDSPINK. Thus Fortune aft a curse can gie, Then tent her syren smiles wha list, For whan fair Freedom smiles nae mair, |