O my Love's like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;
O my Love's like the melody
That’s sweetly played in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in love am I:
And I will love thee still, my dear,
Till all the seas go dry:
Till all the seas go dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt with the sun:
I will love thee still, my dear,
While the sands of life shall run.
And fare thee well, my only Love
And fare thee well, a while!
And I will come again, my Love,
Though it were ten thousand mile.
Rendered in modern English orthography by Katerina Marinovska.
٭ Photography by B. Monginoux, license: CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.
Tag: From Old Books