Lone rose in my hand

I hold a lone rose in my hand, do you not see?
It's for you,
my Love, my precious -
my precious Love

I walk a lonely path with a rose in my hand, do you not see, my Love?
Its gradual bloom, scent romancing;
colour so radiant, petals tender -
a morning's sunday with you in my arms

May its fragrance not faint, its red not fade -
t'is all I have of you on this january night,
this familiar trodden path which leads no longer where

I hold this lone rose in my hand,
a rose I no longer see,
I long forgot,
yet still exists to tell -
of a lone rose in my hand,
and nothing but a lone rose in my hand.