A Red,
Red Rose
– Robert Burns
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 played in tune.
So 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
love 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.
