| Red Red Rose O my luve's like red, red rose, That's newly sprung in June; O my luve's like the melodie That's sweetly played in tune. As fair thou, my bonie lass, So deep in love am I, And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a' seas gang dry. Till a' seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi' the sun; And I will luve 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, Tho' it were ten thousand mile! R. Burns |
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| Devoted to the memory of my beloved sister Alice 28th June 1985 - 17th May 2001 |
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| Devoted to the memory of my daddy Marco 9th May 1956 - 10th June 1999 |
| And will ‘a not come again? And will ‘a not come again? No, no, he is dead. Go to thy deathbed. He never will come again. His beard was as white as snow, All flaxen was his poll. He is gone, he is gone, And we cast away moan. God ‘a’ mercy on his soul! Doubt thou the stars are fire. Doubt that the sun doth move. Doubt truth to be a liar. But never doubt I love. W. Shakespeare |