A RED, RED ROSE - Albert Frank Moritz Poems

 
 

Poems » albert frank moritz » a red red rose

A RED, RED ROSE

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 the weel, a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
    Tho' it ware ten thousand mile!