MOUNTAIN ROSE
Cold and rough the North Wind blows,
Black in the morning early.
Whom should I meet but Mountain Rose
Among the stubble barley?
Black in the morning early.
Whom should I meet but Mountain Rose
Among the stubble barley?
All the world is under snows;
Blowing 'tis and snowing.
Whom should I meet but Mountain Rose
The way that I was going?
Blowing 'tis and snowing.
Whom should I meet but Mountain Rose
The way that I was going?
Not a leaf on the poplar-tree,
Not a flower on the heather.
Mountain Rose looked shyly at me
As we stepped out together.
Not a flower on the heather.
Mountain Rose looked shyly at me
As we stepped out together.
Mountain Rose, so airy and free,
Where are roses blowing?
Rose's cheek, half-turned from me,
The rose of love was showing.
Where are roses blowing?
Rose's cheek, half-turned from me,
The rose of love was showing.
Black and cold the North Wind blows,
Never a bird is singing.
There 's a lilt in the voice of Rose
Sweet as the skylark ringing.
Never a bird is singing.
There 's a lilt in the voice of Rose
Sweet as the skylark ringing.
58
