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_.