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!