The Unquiet Grave

No: 78; variant: 78[Hb]

  1. Cold blows the wind to-night, my love, Cold are the drops of rain; The very first love that ever I had In greenwood he was slain.
  2. ‘I’ll do as much for my true-love As any young woman may; I’ll sit and mourn upon his grave A twelve-month and a day.’
  3. When a twelve-month and a day were up, His body straight arose: ‘What brings you weeping oer my grave That I get no respose?’
  4. ‘O think upon the garden, love, Where you and I did walk; The fairest flower that blossomd there Is withered on the stalk.
  5. ‘The stalk will bear no leaves, sweet-heart, The flower will neer return, And my true-love is dead, is dead, And i do naught but mourn.’
  6. ‘What is it that you want of me And will not let me sleep? Your salten tears they trickle down And wet my winding-sheet.’
  7. ‘What is it that I want of thee, O what of thee in grave? A kiss from off your lily-white lips, And that is all I crave.’
  8. ‘Cold are my lips in death, sweet-heart, My breath is earthy strong; If you do touch my clay-cold lips, Your time will not be long.’
  9. ‘Cold though your lips in death, sweet-heart, One kiss is all I crave; I care not, if I kiss but thee, That I should share thy grave.’
  10. ‘Go fetch me a light from dungeon deep, Wring water from a stone, And likewise milk from a maiden’s breast That never maid hath none. (read babe had.)
  11. ‘Now if you were not true in word, As now I know you be, I’d tear you as the withered leaves Are torn from off the tree.’