The Unquiet Grave
No: 78; variant: 78[Ha]
- ‘Cold blows the wind tonight, sweet-heart,
Cold are the drops of rain;
The very first love that ever I had
In greenwood he was slain.
- ‘I’ll do as much for my sweet-heart
As any young woman may;
I’ll sit and mourn on his grave-side
A twelve-month and a day.’
- A twelve-month and a day being up,
The ghost began to speak:
‘Why sit you here by my grave-side
And will not let me sleep?
- ‘What is it that you want of me,
Or what of me would have?’
‘A kiss from off your lily-white lips,
And that is all I crave!’
- ‘Cold are my lips in death, sweet-heart,
My breath is earthy strong;
To gain a kiss of my cold lips,
Your time would not be long.
- ‘If you were not my own sweet-heart,
As now I know you be,
I’d tear you as the withered leaves
That grew on yonder tree.’
- ‘O don’t you mind the garden, love,
Where you and I did walk?
The fairest flower that blossomd there
Is withered on the stalk.
- ‘And now I’ve mourned upon his grave
A twelvemonth and a day,
We’ll set our sails before the wind
And so we’ll sail away.’