A Red, Red Rose

1
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 .
2
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.
3
Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun,
O, I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.
4
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!


（1796）