While soon the "garden's flaunting flowers" decay
And scattered on the earth neglected lie,
The mountain-daisy, cherished by the ray
A poet drew from heaven, shall never die.
Ah! like that lonely flower the poet
Mid penury's bare soil and bitter gale
He felt each storm that on the mountain blows,
Nor ever knew the shelter of the vale.
By genius in her native vigour nursed,
On nature with impa**ioned look he gazed,
Then through the cloud of adverse fortune burst
Indignant, and in light unborrowed blazed.
Scotia! from rude affliction shield thy bard;
His heaven-taught numbers fame herself will guard.