O were my Love yon Lilack fair


O were my Love yon Lilack 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 was 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'! Oh, there beyond expression blesst I'd feast on beauty a' the night; Seal'd on her silk-saft faulds to rest, Till fley'd awa by Phebus' light!]

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Simon Tait

About this work

This is a song by Robert Burns. It was written in 1793 and is read here by Simon Tait.

Themes for this song

love beauty

Selected for 30 May

Much of the Bard's output was (literally) flowery. Here he is as little bird and dew drop, relishing the purple of lilacs, the red of roses and the girl they remind him of in May.

Donny O'Rourke

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