Robert Burns

O Were My Love Yon Lilac Fair

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 bonnie 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.