| O, my love is like a red, red rose,
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| That is newly sprung in June.
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| O, my love is like the melody,
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| That is sweetly played in tune.
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| As fair are you, my lovely lass,
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| So deep in love am I,
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| And I will love you still, my Dear,
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| Till all the seas go dry.
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| Till all the seas go dry, my Dear,
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| And the rocks melt with the sun!
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| O I will love you still, my Dear,
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| While the sands of life shall run.
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| And fare you well, my only Love,
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| And fare you well a while!
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| And I will come again, my Love,
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| Although it were ten thousand mile!
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| R. Burns |