Oh, my Luve is like a red, red rose, That's newly sprung in June. O, my Luve is like the melodie, That's sweetly played in tune.

For a' that and a' that, It's coming yet, for a' that, That man to man the world o'er Shall brothers be for a' that.

Contented wi' little and cantie wi' mair.

A prince can mak a belted knight, A marquis, duke, and a' that; But an honest man's aboon his might, Guid faith, he mauna fa' that.

Her robe is a cloud, her face a flower; Her balcony, glimmering with the bright spring dew, Is either the tip of earth's Jade Mountain, Or a moon-edged roof of…

I fill this cup to one made up Of loveliness alone, A woman, of her gentle sex The seeming paragon; To whom the better elements And kindly stars have given A f…

There is a garden in her face Where roses and white lilies blow; A heavenly paradise is that place, Wherein all pleasant fruits do grow; There cherries grow th…