My love is like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June
My love is like a melody
That's sweetly played in tune

My love is fair to see
Both true and fair is she
And though I roam ten thousand miles
My love she always will be

Oh, who will shoe your pretty little foot?
And who will glove your hand?
And who will kiss your rosy lips
When I am in that far off land?

My feet will go on sad
And my hand will not be glad
And, if oh you roam ten thousand miles
You always will be my love