The rose-bud on the heather

Once a boy a rose did view,

Rose-bud on the heather!

And so young and fair it grew,

That to see it near he flew,

Through the summer weather;

Rose-bud, rose-bud, rose-bud red,

Rose-bud on the heather!

Spoke the boy: I gather thee,

Rose-bud on the heather!

Said the rose: My thorn for thee!

Thou shalt long remember me,

If thou wilt me gather.

Rose-bud, rose-bud, rose-bud red,

Rose-bud on the heather!

And the boy the rose-bud broke,

Rose-bud on the heather!

Soon he felt the vengeful stroke,

And the sudden pain, awoke

Sighs and groans together.

Rose-bud, rose-bud, rose-bud red,

Rose-bud on the heather!