Beware of your heart, it's cruel and it's careless
More dangerous by far than the beasts in the wood
Beware wicked thoughts that come creeping and crawling
The shadow of dreams that can never come good
She's the talk of the town, the pride of the valley
Comes out with the sun and pours gold on the day
She knows all your names and smiles warm on your faces
But Rosabel's wild as the briar in May
When each house lay asleep she's dropped from her window
In a blanket of darkness crept out of the town
And she' skipped up to Faelen Woods picking Dog Roses
No fear of the shadows that watched all around
She's plucked up her fill, and laughed in the moonshine
In warm summer's evening she's danced 'cross the moor
First twisting and turning, then tripping an falling
And lifeless she's lain on the heather bed floor
When she's woke up, a fire's hot glowing
She's tucked in silk sheets with Lord John watching there
Saying "Sleep, beauty sleep, lose your mind in warm dreaming
You're safe in my house and well mending with care"
In fever she's burned, but time's proved in healing
Made ready to leave but been blocked on the way
"Oh you thief you were wrong to go picking my roses!
And for stealing from me it's right he that you'll stay"
"Oh John you're so proud, and silent, and stubborn!
You're bigger than most and unkempt it is true
But I've grown fond of your ways and your quiet woodland keeping
And be I thief or no, I will stay here with you"
It's seven years gone, and seven years married
And seven slow years she's been counting the hours
"Oh my husband's uncomely and will not look on me
I long rue the day I went picking his flowers"
Now take heed young girls, here's Rosa's undoing;
There's a diary she keeps of her sorrows and cares
If you write yourself down then you're asking for trouble
It's the nature of words to be read and be shared
One grey summer's morning she slipped into town
With excuses of shopping but for fresh company
Oh and who should be there but some boys from the army
And James the most charming in every degree
It isn't by chance he's strolled past her window
Nor by chance she's met him out walking alone
And they've tied up there love in the long July grasses
'Till with the steal dawn she's gone tiptoeing home
She's gone to the kitchen, but Lord John's crept after
He's found her at writing and read just a few lines
Oh he rants and he rages and tears up the pages
And in the grief of betrayal she's fled from his cries
She's run for the woods, and he's tried to call after
But the chill death of heartbreak has stolen his moan
And she caught in the thorns of his wild Dog Roses
And there James has found her cold dead as the stone