Rose（1 / 1）

a red, red rose

[hear 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 play'd 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' 'twere ten thousand mile!