Now blooms the lily by the bank.
The primrose down the brae;
The hawthorn's budding in the glen,
And milkwhite is the slae. [ Burns ]

Sweet is the air with the budding haws,
and the valley stretching for miles below
Is white with blossoming cherry-trees,
as if just covered with lightest snow. [ Longfellow ]

The rose is fairest when it is budding new,
And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears;
The rose is sweetest washed with morning dew,
And love is loveliest when embalmed in tears. [ Sir Walter Scott ]

Never to tire, never to grow cold; to be patient, sympathetic, tender; to look for the budding flower and the opening heart; to hope always; like God, to love always - this is duty. [ Amiel ]