o were my love yon lilac fair
    air—“hughie graham.”
    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 myself 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!