The rose bud

All hail to thee, thou bawmy bud,

Thou charming child o' simmer, hail!

Ilk fragrant thorn and lofty wood

Does nod thy welcome to the vale.

If ruthless Liza pass this way,

She'll poo thee frae thy thorny stem;

A while thou'lt grace her virgin breast,

But soon thou'lt fade, my bonny gem.

Sae bonny Liza hence may learn,

Wi' every youthfu' maiden gay,

That beauty, like the simmer rose,

In time shall wither and decay.