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Cold blows the wind to my true love and gently drops the rain |
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I only had but one true love and in greenwood she lies slain |
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I'll do as much for my true love as any young man may |
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I'll sit and mourn along her grave for a twelve-month and a day |
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When the twelve months and one day was past the ghost began to speak: |
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\"Why sit thou'st here along my grave and will not let me sleep?\" |
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\"There's one thing that I want sweetheart, there's one thing that I crave |
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And that is a kiss from your lily white lips then I'll go from your grave\" |
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\"My lips they are as cold as clay my breath smells earthy strong |
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And if you kiss my cold clay lips your days they won't be long |
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Go fetch me water from the desert and blood from out of stone |
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Go fetch me milk from a fair maid's breast that a young man never had known\" |
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'Twas down in Cupid's Garden where you and I would walk |
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The finest flower that ever I saw is withered to a stalk |
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The stalk is withered and dry sweetheart the flower will ne'er return |
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And since I lost my one true love what can I do but mourn? |
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\"When shall we meet again sweetheart? When shall we meet again?\" |
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\"Ere the oaken leaves that fall from the trees are green and spring up again\" |
