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 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; I will luve thee still, my dear, While the sands o’ life shall run.   And fare thee well, my only Luve! And fare thee well a while! And I will come again, my Luve, Tho’ it were ten thousand miles.