O My Luve's Like a Red, Red Rose

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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 sand 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.

- by Robert Burns

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