O my love’s like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;
O my love’s like the melody
That’s sweetly played in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
As deep in love am I,
And I will love 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 love thee still, my dear,
While the sands of life shall run.
And fare thee well, my only Love,
And fare thee well a while!
And I will come again, my Love,
Tho’ it were ten thousand mile.
Robert Burns 1759 – 1796