Wild red rose

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 a-wounded and forlon
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 with your heart mating.