That 's newly sprung in June:
O my Luve 's like the melodie
That's sweetly play'd in tune!
So deep in luve am I:
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry:
And the rocks melt wi' the sun;
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o' life shall run.
And fare thee weel a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile.