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Vict. Val. 2 |

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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 bonnie lass, So deep in love am
I; And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a' the seas gnag dry Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, 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, my only Luve, And fare thee weel a while! And I will come again, my Luve, Though it were ten thousand mile.
~Robert Burns~
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