Robert Burns, 2 Songs

John Anderson my Jo 
John Anderson my jo, John, 
	When we were first acquent, 
Your locks were like the raven, 
	Your bony brow was brent;
But now your brow is beld, John, 
	Your locks are like the snaw;
But blessings on your frosty pow,
	John Anderson my jo.

John Anderson my jo, John, 
	We clamb the hill the gither;
And mony a canty day, John, 
	We’ve had wi’ ane anither:
Now we maun totter down, John, 
	And hand in hand we’ll go;
And sleep the gither at the foot, 
	John Anderson my jo.
	

A Red, Red Rose
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 thou, my bonie lass, 
	So deep in luve am I;
And I will love 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, a while!
And I will come again, my luve,
	Though it were ten thousand mile!

Robert Burns, 1759-1796 – from Selected Poems & Songs