A Red,Red Rose
by Robert Burns
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 played 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:
O 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,
Thought it were ten thousand mile.