23 December 2008 | Vol. 8, No. 4

A Red, Red Rose

by ROBERT BURNS

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 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.