I’d pluck a fair rose for my love; 
I’d pluck a red rose blowing.
Love’s in my heart, a-tryin 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, a-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.