Burns's Lament of Mary Queen of Scots is a sympathetic projection into the mind of the imprisoned Stuart monarch, based on human rather than ideological empathy.

But the first section is a gem in itself with its delightful description of our northern spring.

 

from LAMENT OF MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS ON THE APPROACH OF SPRING

 

Now Nature hangs her mantle green

On every blooming tree,

And spreads her sheets o' daisies white

Out o'er the grassy lea:

Now Phoebus chears the crystal streams,

And glads the azure skies;

But nought can glad the weary wight

That fast in durance lies.

 

Now laverocks wake the merry morn,

Aloft on dewy wing;

The merle, in his noontime bower,

Makes woodland echoes ring;

The mavis mild wi' many a note,

Sings drowsy day to rest:

In love and freedom they rejoice,

Wi' care nor thrall opprest.

 

Now blooms the lily by the bank,

The primrose down the brae;

The hawthorn's budding in the glen,

And milk-white is the slae:

The meanest hind in fair Scotland

May rove their sweets amang;

But I, the Queen of a' Scotland,

Maun lie in prison strang.