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.