A Poem by Robert Burns

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!

[Analysis of O Were My Love Yon Lilac Fair]