{"collection":"Northern European Mythology","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/neu/eng/child/ch078.htm","path":"neu/eng/child/ch078.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/neu/eng/child/ch078.htm","text":"78A.1 \u2018THE wind doth blow today, my love,\nAnd a few small drops of rain;\nI never had but one true-love,\nIn cold grave she was lain.\n78A.2 \u2018I\u2019ll do as much for my true-love\nAs any young man may;\nI\u2019ll sit and mourn all at her grave\nFor a twelvemonth and a day.\u2019\n78A.3 The twelvemonth and a day being up,\nThe dead began to speak:\n\u2018Oh who sits weeping on my grave,\nAnd will not let me sleep?\u2019\n78A.4 \u2018\u2019Tis I, my love, sits on your grave,\nAnd will not let you sleep;\nFor I crave one kiss of your clay-cold lips,\nAnd that is all I seek.\u2019\n78A.5 \u2018You crave one kiss of my clay-cold lips;\nBut my breath smells earthy strong;\nIf you have one kiss of my clay-cold lips,\nYour time will not be long.\n78A.6 \u2018\u2019Tis down in yonder garden green,\nLove, where we used to walk,\nThe finest flower that ere was seen\nIs withered to a stalk.\n78A.7 \u2018The stalk is withered dry, my love,\nSo will our hearts decay;\nSo make yourself content, my love,\nTill God calls you away.\u2019\n78B: The Unquiet Grave\n78B.1 \u2018HOW cold the wind do blow, dear love,\nAnd see the drops of rain!\nI never had but one true-love,\nIn the green wood he was slain.\n78B.2 \u2018I would do as much for my own true-love\nAs in my power doth lay;\nI would sit and mourn all on his grave\nFor a twelvemonth and a day.\u2019\n78B.3 A twelvemonth and a day being past,\nHis ghost did rise and speak:\n\u2018What makes you mourn all on my grave?\nFor you will not let me sleep.\u2019\n78B.4 \u2018It is not your gold I want, dear love,\nNor yet your wealth I crave;\nBut one kiss from your lily-white lips\nIs all I wish to have.\n78B.5 \u2018Your lips are cold as clay, dear love,\nYour breath doth smell so strong;\u2019\n\u2018I am afraid, my pretty, pretty maid,\nYour time will not be long.\u2019\n78C: The Unquiet Grave\n78C.1 \u2018COLD blows the wind oer my true-love,\nCold blow the drops of rain;\nI never, never had but one sweetheart,\nIn the greenwood he was slain.\n78C.2 \u2018I did as much for my true-love\nAs ever did any maid;\n. . . . .\n. . . . .\n* * * * *\n78C.3 \u2018One kiss from your lily-cold lips, true-love,\nOne kiss is all I pray,\nAnd I\u2019ll sit and weep all over your grave\nFor a twelvemonth and a day.\u2019\n78C.4 \u2018My cheek is as cold as the clay, true-love,\nMy breath is earthy and strong;\nAnd if I should kiss your lips, true-love,\nYour life would not be long.\u2019\n78D: The Unquiet Grave\n78D.1 \u2018PROUD BOREAS makes a hideous noise,\nLoud roars the fatal fleed;\nI loved never a love but one,\nIn church-yard she lies dead.\n78D.2 \u2018But I will do for my love\u2019s sake\nWhat other young men may;\nI\u2019ll sit and mourn upon her grave,\nA twelvemonth and a day.\u2019\n78D.3 A twelvemonth and a day being past,\nThe ghost began to speak:\n\u2018Why sit ye here upon my grave,\nAnd will not let me sleep?\u2019\n78D.4 \u2018One kiss of your lily-white lips\nIs all that I do crave;\nAnd one kiss of your lily-white lips\nIs all that I would have.\u2019\n78D.5 \u2018Your breath is as the roses sweet,\nMine as the sulphur strong;\nIf you get one kiss of my lips,\nYour days would not be long.\n78D.6 \u2018Mind not ye the day, Willie,\nSin you and I did walk?\nThe firstand flower that we did pu\nWas witherd on the stalk.\u2019\n78D.7 \u2018Flowers will fade and die, my dear,\nAye as the tears will turn;\nAnd since I\u2019ve lost my own sweet-heart,\nI\u2019ll never cease but mourn.\u2019\n78D.8 \u2018Lament nae mair for me, my love,\nThe powers we must obey;\nBut hoist up one sail to the wind,\nYour ship must sail away.\u2019\n78[E]: The Unquiet Grave\n78[E].1 \u2018Cold blows the wind over my true love,\nCold blows the drops of rain;\nI never, never had but one sweet-heart,\nIn the green wood he was slain.\n78[E.2] \u2018But I\u2019ll do as much for my true love\nAs any young girl can do;\nI\u2019ll sit and I\u2019ll weep by his grave-side\nFor a twelvemonth and one day.\u2019\n78[E.3] When the twelvemonth\u2019s end and one day was past,\nThis young man he arose:\n\u2018What makes you weep by my grave-side\nFor twelve months and one day?\u2019\n78[E.4] \u2018Only one kiss from your lily cold lips,\nOne kiss is all I crave;\nOnly one kiss from your lily cold lips,\nAnd return back to your grave.\u2019\n78[E.5] \u2018My lip is cold as the clay, sweet-heart,\nMy breath is earthly strong;\nIf you should have a kiss from my cold lip,\nYour days will not be long.\u2019\n78[E.6] \u2018Go fetch me a note from the dungeon dark,\nCold water from a stone;\nThere I\u2019ll sit and weep for my true love\nFor a twelvemonth and one day.\n78[E.7] \u2018Go dig me a grave both long, wide and deep;\nI will lay down in it and take one sleep,\nFor a twelvemonth and one day;\nI will lay down in it and take a long sleep,\nFor a twelvemonth and a day.\u2019\n78[F]: The Unquiet Grave\n78[F].1 \u2018Cold blows the wind over my true love,\nCold blow the drops of rain;\nI never, never had but one true love,\nAnd in Camvile he was slain.\n78[F.2] \u2018I\u2019ll do as much for my true love\nAs any young girl may;\nI\u2019ll sit and weep down by his grave\nFor twelve months and one day.\u2019\n78[F.3] But when twelve months were come and gone,\nThis young man he arose:\n\u2018What makes you weep down by my grave?\nI can\u2019t take my respose.\u2019\n78[F.4] \u2018One kiss, one kiss, of your lily-white lips,\nOne kiss is all I crave;\nOne kiss, one kiss, of your lily-white lips,\nAnd return back to your grave.\u2019\n78[F.5] \u2018My lips they are as cold as my clay,\nMy breath is heavy and strong;\nIf thou wast to kiss my lily-white lips,\nThy days would not be long.\n78[F.6] \u2018O don\u2019t you remember the garden-grove\nWhere we was used to walk?\nPluck the finest flower of them all,\n\u2019Twill wither to a stalk.\u2019\n78[F.7] \u2018Go fetch me a nut from a dungeon deep,\nAnd water from a stone,\nAnd white milk from a maiden\u2019s breast\n[That babe bare never none].\u2019\n78[G]: The Unquiet Grave\n78[G].1 \u2018Cold blows the wind to-day, sweetheart,\nCold are the drops of rain;\nThe first truelove that ever I had\nIn the green wood he was slain.\n78[G.2] \u2018\u2019Twas down on the garden-green, sweetheart,\nWhere you and I did walk;\nThe fairest flower that in the garden grew\nIs witherd to a stalk.\n78[G.3] \u2018The stalk will bear no leaves, sweetheart,\nThe flowers will neer return,\nAnd since my truelove is dead and gone,\nWhat can I do but mourn?\u2019\n78[G.4] A twelvemonth and a day being gone,\nThe spirit rose and spoke:\n. . . . . . .\n. . . . . . .\n78[G.5] \u2018My body is clay-cold, sweetheart,\nMy breath smells heavy and strong,\nAnd if you kiss my lily-white lips\nYour time will not be long.\u2019\n78[Ha]: The Unquiet Grave\n78[Ha].1 \u2018Cold blows the wind tonight, sweet-heart,\nCold are the drops of rain;\nThe very first love that ever I had\nIn greenwood he was slain.\n78[Ha.2] \u2018I\u2019ll do as much for my sweet-heart\nAs any young woman may;\nI\u2019ll sit and mourn on his grave-side\nA twelve-month and a day.\u2019\n78[Ha.3] A twelve-month and a day being up,\nThe ghost began to speak:\n\u2018Why sit you here by my grave-side\nAnd will not let me sleep?\n78[Ha.4] \u2018What is it that you want of me,\nOr what of me would have?\u2019\n\u2018A kiss from off your lily-white lips,\nAnd that is all I crave!\u2019\n78[Ha.5] \u2018Cold are my lips in death, sweet-heart,\nMy breath is earthy strong;\nTo gain a kiss of my cold lips,\nYour time would not be long.\n78[Ha.6] \u2018If you were not my own sweet-heart,\nAs now I know you be,\nI\u2019d tear you as the withered leaves\nThat grew on yonder tree.\u2019\n78[Ha.7] \u2018O don\u2019t you mind the garden, love,\nWhere you and I did walk?\nThe fairest flower that blossomd there\nIs withered on the stalk.\n* * * * * * *\n78[Ha.8] \u2018And now I\u2019ve mourned upon his grave\nA twelvemonth and a day,\nWe\u2019ll set our sails before the wind\nAnd so we\u2019ll sail away.\u2019\n78[Hb]: The Unquiet Grave\n78[Hb].1 Cold blows the wind to-night, my love,\nCold are the drops of rain;\nThe very first love that ever I had\nIn greenwood he was slain.\n78[Hb.2] \u2018I\u2019ll do as much for my true-love\nAs any young woman may;\nI\u2019ll sit and mourn upon his grave\nA twelve-month and a day.\u2019\n78[Hb.3] When a twelve-month and a day were up,\nHis body straight arose:\n\u2018What brings you weeping oer my grave\nThat I get no respose?\u2019\n78[Hb.4] \u2018O think upon the garden, love,\nWhere you and I did walk;\nThe fairest flower that blossomd there\nIs withered on the stalk.\n78[Hb.5] \u2018The stalk will bear no leaves, sweet-heart,\nThe flower will neer return,\nAnd my true-love is dead, is dead,\nAnd i do naught but mourn.\u2019\n78[Hb.6] \u2018What is it that you want of me\nAnd will not let me sleep?\nYour salten tears they trickle down\nAnd wet my winding-sheet.\u2019\n78[Hb.7] \u2018What is it that I want of thee,\nO what of thee in grave?\nA kiss from off your lily-white lips,\nAnd that is all I crave.\u2019\n78[Hb.8] \u2018Cold are my lips in death, sweet-heart,\nMy breath is earthy strong;\nIf you do touch my clay-cold lips,\nYour time will not be long.\u2019\n78[Hb.9] \u2018Cold though your lips in death, sweet-heart,\nOne kiss is all I crave;\nI care not, if I kiss but thee,\nThat I should share thy grave.\u2019\n78[Hb.10] \u2018Go fetch me a light from dungeon deep,\nWring water from a stone,\nAnd likewise milk from a maiden\u2019s breast\nThat never maid hath none. (read babe had.)\n* * * * * * *\n78[Hb.11] \u2018Now if you were not true in word,\nAs now I know you be,\nI\u2019d tear you as the withered leaves\nAre torn from off the tree.\u2019\n78[Hc]: The Unquiet Grave\n78[Hc].1 \u2018It\u2019s for to meet the falling drops,\nCold fall the drops of rain;\nThe last true-love, etc.\n78[Hc.2] \u2018I\u2019ll do as much for my fair love\nas any,\u2019 etc.\nthe rest \"[almost exactly\"] as b.","title":"The Child Ballads: 78. The Unquiet Grave","type":"page"}