Ii

O mother, my mother, this thing I must say: There is a rose in the garden; Ere he lies on the breast where that other lay: And the bird sings over the roses.

Now, folly, my daughter, for men are men: There is a rose in the garden; You marry them blindfold, I tell you again: And the bird sings over the roses.

O mother, but when he kisses me! There is a rose in the garden; My child, 'tis which shall sweetest be! And the bird sings over the roses.

O mother, but when I awake in the morn! There is a rose in the garden; My child, you are his, and the ring is worn: And the bird sings over the roses.

Tall Margaret sighed and loosened a tress: There is a rose in the garden; Poor comfort she had of her comeliness And the bird sings over the roses.

My mother will sink if this thing be said: There is a rose in the garden; That my first betrothed came thrice to my bed; And the bird sings over the roses.

He died on my shoulder the third cold night: There is a rose in the garden; I dragged his body all through the moonlight: And the bird sings over the roses.

But when I came by my father's door: There is a rose in the garden; I fell in a lump on the stiff dead floor: And the bird sings over the roses.

O neither to heaven, nor yet to hell: There is a rose in the garden; Could I follow the lover I loved so well! And the bird sings over the roses.