• O, my love 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 bonnie 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!