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O My Luve's Like a Red, Red Rose W. H. Auden - UK
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 love 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 awhile! And I will come again, my Luve, Tho' it were ten thousand mile.
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