O LUVE will venture in where it daur na weel be seen,
O luve will venture in where wisdom ance has been;
But I will doun yon river rove, amang the wood sae green,
And a to pu a Posie to my ain dear May.
The primrose I will pu, the firstling o the year,
And I will pu the pink, the emblem o my dear;
For shes the pink o womankind, and blooms without a peer,
And a to be a Posie to my ain dear May.
Ill pu the budding rose, when Phoebus peeps in view,
For its like a baumy kiss o her sweet, bonie mou;
The hyacinths for constancy wi its unchanging blue,
And a to be a Posie to my ain dear May.
The lily it is pure, and the lily it is fair,
And in her lovely bosom Ill place the lily there;
The daisys for simplicity and unaffected air,
And a to be a Posie to my ain dear May.
The hawthorn I will pu, wi its locks o siller gray,
Where, like an aged man, it stands at break o day;
But the songsters nest within the bush I winna tak away
And a to be a Posie to my ain dear May.
The woodbine I will pu, when the eening star is near,
And the diamond draps o dew shall be her een sae clear;
The violets for modesty, which weel she fas to wear,
And a to be a Posie to my ain dear May.
Ill tie the Posie round wi the silken band o luve,
And Ill place it in her breast, and Ill swear by a above,
That to my latest draught o life the band shall neer remove,
And this will be a Posie to my ain dear May.
