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Home  »  The English Poets  »  A Red, Red Rose

Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. III. The Eighteenth Century: Addison to Blake

Robert Burns (1759–1796)

A Red, Red Rose

TUNE—‘Wishaw’s Favourite.’

MY luve is like a red, red rose

That ’s newly sprung in June:

My luve is like the melodie

That ’s sweetly played in tune.

As fair thou art, 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:

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.