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.