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A red, Red rose

A red, Red rose
by Robert Burns

O my luve’s like a red,red rose

That’s newly spring in june:

O my luve’s like the melodie

That’s sweetly play’d 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 luve thee still, my dear,

While the sands o’life shall run.


And fare thee week,my onlu luve!

And fare thee awhile!

And i will come again,my luve,

Tho’it were ten thousand mile.

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