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Within my prison cell so dreary,
Alone I sit with aching heart;
And thinking of my lonely darling,
From her forever I must part.
The rose she gave me as a token,
She said 'twas just to light my gloom;
To let me know her heart was broken,
To cheer me ere I meet my doom.
She said, "I plucked it from the garden,
Where once we wandered side by side;
And now you hold no hope of pardon,
And I can never be your bride."
The judge he would not b'lieve my story,
The jury said I had to pay;
And to the rose in all its glory,
"Not guilty," is all I have to say.
Farewell, sweetheart, for in the morning,
I will meet my maker in repose;
And when I die at daylight's dawning,
Against my heart you'll find a rose.
Collected in 1951 from Joe Sutton of St. Shott's, NL, and erroneously published as Prisoner Of Newfoundland in MacEdward Leach And The Songs Of Atlantic Canada © 2004 Memorial University of Newfoundland Folklore and Language Archive (MUNFLA).
