A 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 thou art, my bonnie lass, So deep in love am I: And I will love thee still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry:
Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt with the sun; I will luve thee still my dear, When the sands of 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.
by Robert Burns 1759-1796, written in 1780
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Create Date : 07 มกราคม 2552 |
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