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 played 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:
O I  will  love thee still,my dear,

   While the sands o`life shall run.

And fare thee weel,my only luve,
   And fare thee weel awhile!
And I will come again ,my luve,
   Thought it were ten thousand mile.