The Unquiet Grave
Cold blows the wind to my true love
And gently drops the rain
I only have but one true love
And in green wood he lies slain
I’ll do so much for my true love
As any young girl may
I’ll sit and mourn all on his grave
For twelve months and a day
When twelve months and a day were past
The ghost began to speak
“Why sittest thou all on my grave
And will not let me sleep?”
There is one thing that I want sweetheart
There is one thing that I crave
And that is a kiss from your lily-white lips
Then I’ll go from your grave
“My lips they are as cold as clay
My breath comes earthy strong
And if you kiss my cold clay lips
Your days they won’t be long
Go fetch me water from a desert
And blood from out of a stone
Go fetch me milk from a fair maid’s breast
That young men never have known.”
Twas down in Cupid’s garden
Where you and I did walk
The finest flower that e’er I saw
Is withered to a stalk
“The stalk is withered and dried sweetheart
So shall our hearts decay
So make yourself content, my love
Till death calls you away.”
When shall we meet again, sweetheart
When shall we meet again?
“When oaken leaves that fall from the trees
Are green and spring up again.”
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