My rose, my soul, my heart's delight,
Such treachery this wintry night!
My fathers men hath taken thee
And I know not if thou'llst e're be free.
A spy was in the wood that day
When I met with thee and at last did say
How you set me alight with thy smile and thy voice;
How I'd gladly wed thee, were I given a choice.
The man heard my confessions and fled to the king
And said, "Noble sire, dire news I must bring!
Thy son the lord prince is smitten indeed.
But 'tis a peasant girl who has sown love's seed."
As prince I may not marry as I might wish.
Ah! wealth and pow'r are a bittersweet dish.
This is the reason thou wast sent away
But I will come swiftly as soon as I may.
I now gather men who'll support my endeavour,
Who're loyal to me, and we'll all stick together.
We'll whisk thee away, and then thee and I'll marry.
But we must do it quick, not a moment to tarry.
Once we are wedded in Our Father's eyes
My father shant dare bring about our demise.
He'll have to accept that one just can't stand by
And watch, as their love is dispatched to the sky.
And my love, thou'llt be queen! Ah! sweet heavens all bless.
Thou'll be marvelous indeed in thy coronation dress
As in any other, of any shape or hue.
Such is thy beauty, because, I love you.