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A Red, Red Rose

[Hear 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;
     And 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' 'twere ten thousand mile!

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