FOR A ROSE'S SAKE — FRENCH FOLK-SONG

I laved my hands

By the water-side,

With willow leaves

My hands I dried.

The nightingale sang

On the bough of a tree,

Sing, sweet nightingale,

It is well with thee.

Thou hast heart's delight,

I have sad heart's sorrow,

For a false false maid

That will wed to-morrow.

It is all for a rose

That I gave her not,

And I would that it grew

In the garden plot,

And I would the rose-tree

Were still to set,

That my love Marie

Might love me yet!