Robert Burns, aka Rabbie Burns, the Bard of Ayrshire, The Scottish Poet and the panty-dropping poet (by me). c/o RobertBurns.org
  1. "If ever a poet understood the character of his nation, he was Robert Burns. The language he was most fluent in wasn’t so much Scots or English – it was the language of the heart. All too human in his personal life, he carried that humanity over onto the page. Nothing was too small or too large to escape his notice, from a mouse in the mud to God in his heavens. A poet for all seasons, Burns speaks to all, soul to soul." - http://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poetry/poets/robert-burns
  2. O my Luve's like a red, red rose,
  3. That's newly sprung in June:
  4. O my Luve's like the melodie,
  5. That's sweetly play'd in tune.
  6. .
  7. As fair art thou, my bonie lass,
  8. So deep in luve am I;
  9. And I will luve thee still, my dear,
  10. Till a' the seas gang dry.
  11. .
  12. Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
  13. And the rocks melt wi' the sun;
  14. And I will luve thee still, my dear,
  15. While the sands o' life shall run.
  16. .
  17. And fare-thee-weel, my only Luve!
  18. And fare-thee-weel, a while!
  19. And I will come again, my Luve,
  20. Tho' 'twere ten thousand mile!