O my Love’s like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;
O my Love’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 well,my only Luve
And fare thee well,a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho’ it were ten thousand mile.
