Hear my voice and listen well, and a story I will
tell,
How duty brought a broken heart, and why a love
so strong
Must fall apart;

She was lovely, she was fine, daughter of a royal
line,
He, no equal, but for them it mattered little for
they were in love;

Rose of England, sweet and fair, shining with the
sun,
Rose of England, have a care, for where the thorn
is,
There the blood will run;

Oh my heart, oh my heart;

Through the summer days and nights, stolen kisses
and delights
Would thrill their hearts and fill their dreams
with all emotions
That true love can bring;

But black of mourning came one day, when her
sister passed away,
And many said on bended knee, she has gone, and
you must be our Queen;

Rose of England, sweet and fair, shining with the
sun,
Rose of England, have a care, for where the thorn
is,
There the blood will run;

Oh my heart, oh my heart;

To the abbey she did ride, with her lover by her
side,
When they heard the church bells ring, she was
Queen
And one day, he'd be King;

But men of malice, men of hate, protesting to her
chambers came,
"A foreign prince will have your hand, for he'll
bring peace
And riches to our land;"
She said, "Do you tell me that I cannot wed the
one I love?
Do you tell me that I am not mistress of my
heart?"

And so with heavy weight of life she kissed her
lover one last time,
"This land I wed, and no man comes, for if I
cannot have you, I'll have
None;"

Rose of England, sweet and fair, shining with the
sun,
Rose of England have a care, for where the thorn
is,
There the blood will run;

Oh my heart, oh my heart.