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The Unquiet Grave

No: 78; variant: 78C

  1. 'COLD blows the wind oer my true-love, Cold blow the drops of rain; I never, never had but one sweetheart, In the greenwood he was slain.
  2. 'I did as much for my true-love As ever did any maid; . . . . . . . . . .

  1. 'One kiss from your lily-cold lips, true-love, One kiss is all I pray, And I'll sit and weep all over your grave For a twelvemonth and a day.'
  2. 'My cheek is as cold as the clay, true-love, My breath is earthy and strong; And if I should kiss your lips, true-love, Your life would not be long.'