A red, red rose ...

I had this poem on the blog and then removed it last night ... but a Celtic friend reposted it and I think this poem wants to remain in my memory thus back on this page it goes:

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 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 luve thee still, my dear,

While the sands o’ life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only Luve

And fare thee weel, a while.

And I will come again, my Luve,

Tho’ it were ten thousand mile.