A RED, RED ROSEBy Robert BurnsO MY Luve’s like a red, red roseThat’s newly sprung in June:O my Luve’s like the melodieThat’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.

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