The Poetical Works of Robert Burns/A red, red Rose

by Robert Burns (1759-1796)

For other versions of this work, see A red, red Rose (Burns).

A RED, RED ROSE.

TUNE—'WISHAW'S FAVOURITE.'

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:
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.