O my luve is 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 bonny lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang 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 love,
And fare thee weel, awhile!
And I will come again, my love
Tho’ it were ten thousand mile.
Scottish poet Robert Burns penned these lines in 1794 and they still resonate today all these centuries later. This particular little rose is a Louis Philippe, an antique rose I bought from a nursery in New Orleans years ago. “A China rose from 1834, the flowers are double, deep crimson with a touch of blush at the center and like all old Chinas exhibit an occasional white streak through the petals.” (Information from Antique Rose Emporium website; Brenham, Texas).