My Luve's Like a Red, Red Rose

O my Luve is like a red, red rose 

That’s newly sprung in June; 

O my Luve is like the melody 

That’s sweetly played in tune. 

So 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 love 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, 

Though it were ten thousand mile.

~ Robert Burns