Robert Burns-A Red, Red Rose
A 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 bonie lass, So deep in luve am I; And I will love 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 a while! And I will come again, my Luve, Tho' it were ten thousand mile! |