A Red, Red Rose

I’m a lover of the English language but you probably guessed that by now. However, this is the first poem to feature on this website that’s written in Scottish. It’s quite a different read but I really like the specific vocabulary. And this love story in the hills of Scotland. But then again, who wouldn’t swoon at that? Am I right, ladies? 😉

O my Luve is like a red, red rose
   That’s newly sprung in June;
O my Luve is like the melody
   That’s sweetly played in tune.

So 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 love 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,
   Though it were ten thousand mile.

Robert Burns


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