I pinned a red rose o'er my heart,
The rose my lover gave to me,
With many vows and tender words,
My love, my own, I love but thee.
I wore the red rose o'er my heart,
That summer day with gladness,
And knew not doubt nor haunting care,
Nor slightest touch of sadness.
But ah! a thorn's within my heart,
A thorn of false love's planting,
Deceit had pressed its bitter sting,
My life forever haunting.
I took the red rose from my heart,
No more, oh love,‘ tis blowing,
The thorn lies deep within my breast,
Where never sign is showing.