My Love Is Like A Red, Red Rose

My Love Is Like A Red, Red Rose

Author: 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 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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