Nae wind comes owre sae free
Upon the yirden rose,
As hill-blawn winds that gae
Whaur the white bloom grows.
There is nae biggit bower
Sae gladsome for the sicht
As the sma' wilder'd fleur
flanterin wi' the licht.
And hearts will tine their fear
Whan love sae freely blaws
Open to joy and care
As the sma' white rose.