“I’d pluck a fair rose for my love;
I’d pluck a red rose blowing.
Love’s in my heart a-trying so to prove.
What your heart’s knowing.
I’d pluck a finger on a thorn,
I’d pluck a finger bleeding.
Red is my heart a-wounded and forlorn
And your heart needing.”
I’d pluck a red rose blowing.
Love’s in my heart a-trying so to prove.
What your heart’s knowing.
I’d pluck a finger on a thorn,
I’d pluck a finger bleeding.
Red is my heart a-wounded and forlorn
And your heart needing.”
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