Cold blows the wind to my true love
And gently drops the rain.
I only had but one true love
And in greenwood she lies slain.
I'll do as much for my true love
As any young man may.
I'll sit and mourn along her grave
For a twelve month and a day.
When the twelve months and one day was past
The ghost began to speak:
"Why sit thoust here along 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 they are as cold as clay,
My breath smells earthy 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 out of stone,
Go fetch me milk from a fair maid's breast
That a young man never had known."
'Twas down in Cupid's Garden
Where you and I would walk.
The finest flower that ever I saw
Is withered to a stalk.
The stalk is withered and dry sweetheart,
The flower will ne'er return.
And since I lost my own true love
What can I do but mourn?
"When shall we meet again sweetheart?
When shall we meet again?"
"Ere the oaken leaves that fall from the trees
Are green and spring up again".
