O, my Luves like a red, red rose, Thats newly sprung in June. O, my Luves like a melodie Thats sweetly playd in tune. As fair as thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve 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 wi the sun: I will love thess till, my dear, While the sands o life shall run: And fare thee well, my only luve! And fare thee weel, a while! And I will come again, my luve, Tho it ware ten thousand mile. Burns, Robert
Posted on: Mon, 21 Oct 2013 06:19:05 +0000
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