Red Red Rose by Robert Burns

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 played in tune.

As fair art, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve 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 still, my dear,
While the sands o' shall run.

he died at the age of only 37....who knows what he would have produced, given a few more years?

This poem was sent in by May, from Scotlands Enchanting kingdom.
Also suggested by Susan, from Write Out Loud. A big "Thank You" to both!.