Poems (Tynan)/Mountain Rose
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?
All the world is under snows; 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.
Mountain Rose, so airy and free, 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.
Winter's black on heather and broom, Where shall I find honey? Rose's mouth is the honeycomb, And Rose's laugh is sunny.
Black and cold the North Wind blows, Winter comes in fairly. I keep Summer with Mountain Rose Among the stubble barley.