1.
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.
2.
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 frey'd awa by Phoebus' light!

O, were my love yon lilac fair
With purple blossoms to the spring,
And I a bird to shelter there,
When wearied on my little wing,
How I would mourn when it was torn
By Autumn wild and Winter rude!
But I would sing on wanton wing,
When youthful May its bloom renewed.

O, if my love were yonder red rose,
That grows upon the castle wall,
And I myself a drop of dew
Into her lovely breast to fall,
O, there, beyond expression blessed,
I would feast on beauty all the night,
Sealed on her silk-soft folds to rest,
Till scared away by Phoebus' light!