1 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. 5 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, 10 And the rocks melt wi' the sun: And 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, awhile! 15 And I will come again, my Luve, Tho' it were ten thousand mile!
Source: Exploring Poetry, Gale, 1997.