RED, RED ROSE
O my Luve’s Like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June:
O my Luve’s like the melodie,
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 all the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun;
And 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, a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho’ ‘twere ten thousand mile!
-Robert Burns (1794)
