Locust

"

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.

"

-Robert Burns