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;
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 awhile!
and i will come again, my luve,
tho' it ware ten thousand mile.
