My "luve" is like a red red rose that's newly sprung in june; My "luve" is like the melodie that's sweetly played 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; And I will luve thee still, my dear, while the sands o' life shall run...

Go, fetch to me a pint o' wine,
And fill it in a silver tassie,
That I may drink, before I go...