A Red Red Rose

"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 play'd in tune.

† † As fair art thou, my bonie 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 the weel, a while! And I will come again, my Luve, Tho' it ware ten thousand mile!"

Robert Burns

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