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, wounded and forlorn,
and your heart needing.
I’d hold a finger to my tongue,
I’d hold a finger waiting.
My heart is sore until it joins in song
wi’ your heart mating.
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