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.