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!
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