So, as far as I know, my round is;

Rose, Rose, Rose Red, will I ever see thee wed?
I will marry at thy will Sire, at thy will.

Beauty is before me, beauty is around me, beauty is above me and below.

Ding, ding, ding dong, wedding bells on an April morn', carve my name on a moss covered stone, on a moss covered stone.

Ding, ding, ding dong, funeral bells on a September morn', Rose, oh Rose is dead and gone Sire, dead and gone.

Ah, thou poor bird, take thy flight high above the sorrows of this night. This night.