When you are young, the sun shall rise, And bloom upon your brow; Where flowers blossom, green hills lie, The world is yours, behold.

For every path that leads you far, Shall mark your heart’s design; In nature’s mirror, set your star, And let your spirit shine.

So tiptoe through the sylvan glade, And cherish all the free; For life’s a song where love’s conveyed, To bless eternity.

• Robert Burns