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 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; 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 ware ten thousand mile.
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