Robert Burns (1759–1796). Poems and Songs.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.
447 . SongA red, red Rose
O
That’s newly sprung in June:
O my Luve’s like the melodie,
That’s sweetly play’d in tune.
So deep in luve am I; And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a’ the seas gang dry. 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, a while! And I will come again, my Luve, Tho’ ’twere ten thousand mile!