A Red, Red Rose

A Red, Red Rose 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 sweety 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 sand's 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 miles.