Where is this peril, my pretty
Who would not bruise the flesh of the wild blooming rose?
There's a spell to reveal you, to wound you or heal you
And Love is its name, as the Wild Willoo knows.
But my kingdoms send tribute
of gold and of silver
Of spices and incense as sweet as the rose.
There are gifts born of fear, there are gifts given freely
And which taste the sweeter, the Wild Willoo knows.
Ah, but Time has betrayed me,
my pretty young stranger
it has chilled my desire, it has withered my rose.
But Love is the fIre, and Life is the fountain
Drink deep of the waters the Wild Willoo knows.
And when will you leave ne,
my pretty young stranger?
When I drown in your river, when I bleed from your rose?
Till the last sparrow falls, till the last thrush is silent
That long will I love you, the Wild Willoo knows.
Well then, let us marry, my
pretty young stranger
Our emblem will be lion white and red rose.
And we'll walk through the fields In the light of the sunset
And we'll share in the peace that the Wild Willoo knows.