- O my luve is like a red, red rose,
- That’s newly sprung in June:
- O my luve is like the melodie,
- That’s sweetly played in tune.
- As fair art thou, my bonie 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 a while!
- And I will come again, my luve,
- Tho’ it were ten thousand mile.