A Red, Red Rose, Robert Burns
A Red, Red Rose Robert Burns(1759～1796) O! my love’s like a red, red rose, That’s newly sprung in June; O! my Love’s like the melodie That’s sweetly played in June. As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in love 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: O! I will love thee still, my dear, While the..
