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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.
~ Roibert Burns
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Taken on Wednesday October 9, 2024
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Posted on Wednesday October 9, 2024
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4 comments
Dinesh said:
www.poetryfoundation.org/collections/152982/an-introduction-to-british-romanticism
Jaap van 't Veen said:
Xata said:
Dinesh replied to Xata:
This was prescribed during High School days as one in English lessons, which included both prose and poems, this one of those poems!