I'll pu' the budding rose, when Phoebus peeps in view, For its like a baumy kiss o'er her sweet bonnie mou'!

Let us crown ourselves with rosebuds before they wither.

Some people complain because the roses have thorns. Others give thanks because the thorns have roses.

Some people grumble because roses have thorns. Be thankful instead that thorns have roses.

Yon rose-buds in the morning-dew, How pure amang the leaves sae green!