You’ll find me where the wild roses grow,
In autumn or summer, springtime or snow,
Where the wayward wander and the south winds blow.
You’ll find me where the wild roses grow.
In the half-dim shadows of twilit glow,
As the untamed fields lie far below,
A night-bird flies in her wintry woe.
You’ll find me where the wild roses grow.
My unbrushed hair is getting curled, just so,
For the rain undid it long ago;
A storm-cloud stole my silken bow.
You’ll find me where the wild roses grow.
Do tell me, love, if you’re coming, though.
The air is cold and I’m about to go.
I’m not the waiting kind, you know.
(But, oh! your timing’s awfully slow – )
You’ll find me where the wild roses grow.
