Heriot Toun in winter

Words for Spring 2018



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 worn when it was torn,

By autumn wild and winter rude!

But I wad sing on wanton wing

When youthfu' May its bloom renew'd.


Oh gin my love was 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,

Til fley'd awa' by Phoebus' light.

 

 

 

 

Robert Burns


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