Robert Burns - A Red Red Rose

O my Luve is like a red, red rose, That’s newly sprung in June: O my Luve is like the melody That’s sweetly play’d in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve am I; And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a’ the seas gang dry.

Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi’ the sun: I will luve thee still, my dear, While the sands o’ life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only Luve! And fare thee weel awhile! And I will come again, my Luve, Though it were ten thousand mile.