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:

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!

And I will come again, my Luve,

Tho' it were ten thousand mile!