A Red, Red Rose
Robert Burns, 1794
 
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 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, a while
And I will come again, my Luve
Tho’ it were ten thousand mile