O, were my love yon lilac fair Wi' purple blossoms to the spring,
And I a bird to shelter there, When wearied on my little wing.
How I wad mourn when it was torn By Autumn wild and Winter rude!
But I wad sing on wanton wing When youthfu May its bloom renew'd.
O, gin my love were yon red rose, That grows upon the castle wa',
And I mysel a drap o' dew Into her bonie breast to fa',
O, there, beyond expression blest, I'd feast on beauty a' the night,
Seal'd on her silk-saft faulds to rest, Till fley'd awa by Phoebus' light!
