Robert Burns

Burns’ drink’s like a red, red velvet
That’s newly blended in June;
O his Drink’s like the melodie
That’s sweetly piped into the room.

As fair art thou, my bonnie drink,
So deep in luve am I:
And I will luve thee still, my drink,
Till a’ the seas gang dry:

Till a’ the seas gang dry, my drink,
And the ice melts out of mind:
I will luve thee still, my drink,
While the beans o’ life shall grind.

And fare thee weel, my only Drink
And fare thee weel, a while!
And I will come again, my Drink,
Tho’ it were ten thousand mile.

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