O, My luve’s Like A Red, Red Rose

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 thou art, 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.

--Robert Burns