Robert Burns, 1794
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.
2. As fair art thou, my bonie lass,
3. 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.
4. And fare-thee-weel, my only Luve!
| Song Index | Home Page |