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CXXIII
O WERE MY LOVE YON LILAC FAIR |
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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'!
Oh, 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.
The first two verses by Burns, and Richardson, the third old. Tune Oran Gaoil. |
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