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A RED , RED ROSE
O my Luve's like red , red rose,
That 's newly sprung in April;
O my Luve's like a melodie,
That sweetly played in the tune.
As fair art thou, my bonnies 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, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi th the sun,
I will luve thee still my dear,
While the sands o' life's run.
And fare thee well, my only Luve,
And fare thee well, a while!
And I will come again my Luve,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile.
That 's newly sprung in April;
O my Luve's like a melodie,
That sweetly played in the tune.
As fair art thou, my bonnies 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, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi th the sun,
I will luve thee still my dear,
While the sands o' life's run.
And fare thee well, my only Luve,
And fare thee well, a while!
And I will come again my Luve,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile.
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