The Unquiet Grave

Cold blows the wind to my true love
And gentle drops the rain
I only had but one true love
And in Greenwood he lies slain

I'll do as much for my true love
As any young man may
I'll sit and mourn all on her grave
For a twelve-month and a day

When the twelve month and one day was past
The ghost begun for to speak
"Why sittest here all on my grave
And will not let me sleep?

There's one thing that I want, sweetheart
There's one thing that I crave
And that is a kiss from your lily-white lips
Then I'll go from your grave

My lips are cold as clay
My breath smells earthly strong
And if you kiss my cold clay lips
Your days, they won't be long

Go fetch me water from the desert
And blood from mount of stone
Go fetch me milk from a fair maid's breast
That a young man never had, no

Towels on the Cupid's garden
Where you and I would walk
The finest flowers that ever had saw
This way that you would stock

The stock is weather then dry sweetheart
The flower's weary too
And since I lost my own true love
What can I do but walk

When shall we meet again sweetheart?
When shall we meet again?
There the old coal leaves that fall from the trees
Our green and spring out again